


let me put you back together (the right way)

by jamesniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cancer, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No character death!!!!, more detailed warnings in author's note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2448500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesniall/pseuds/jamesniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet in the least expected circumstances, but life knows how to works its magic.</p><p> </p><p>Or, Niall has dealt with cancer for the past two years of his life, and Harry is the angel (and a member of his favourite band) that comes to make it all better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I, again, started this mooonths ago, but, again, never quite got the time to focus on it and give it the importance it deserves...it started as a completely different idea, but it was until i went on a trip with my uni, to a local hospital, that i knew where i wanted to go with this.
> 
> This is based on a real story when it comes to niall's diagnosis and medical treatment, the part where Harry comes to save it all is all fiction. I'll tell you all the story of the boy that inspired this thing in the last part :) 
> 
> as warnings (and spoilers, oops): there's smut and there are mentions on chemotherapy, osteosarcoma and amputation (later on the fic), also a bit of suicidal thoughts of you squint hard enough. This WON'T have character death.... it's a huge spoiler, but Niall won't die.
> 
> I've planned on posting this as a whole, long one shot, but i know im gonna let this abandoned if i don't start posting it right away, so yeah, the whole plot is already set, most of the second part is already written, and if im right, it won't have more than 3 parts, but we'll see, maybe i'll manage to squeeze it all in the next part.... about the next part, i don't know when it will posted. I hope it will be this week, maybe next sunday, but no promises. I'll try my hardest though, it all depends on work and uni.
> 
> anyway! i hope you enjoy and i hope this little first part will be enough for now. see you next time! also, please /PLEASE/ tell me what you think!!! tell me what do you think will happen, or what do you want to happen, any kind of idea will be read and appreciated! much love to all of you<3
> 
> if you se grammar/spelling mistakes, please forgive me, this is not a excuse but english is not my native language, so yeah. just tell me if you find any and i'll immediately fix it, thank you!

Niall is mindlessly scrolling through the messages that his best friends have sent him - reading the start of every  _im sorry ur back at hospital_ but never daring to reply - when he hears the news for the first time.

It's a whispered conversation between two girls, "Did you hear that One Direction will come to visit in a week?" And Niall can't stop listening after that. It's a bit pathetic if you ask him, eavesdropping a group of girls talking about the biggest boy band in the world. But Niall's been longing for something exciting to happen for weeks, needs some rush of hope, bliss, no one can blame him for that. He's a fan of those boys, has been for a good three years and has ineffectively tried to get in contact with them in one way or another. 

(He loves saying that, and then grinning before saying  _that's one of their songs, you know_   even if people always roll their eyes at him)

So to know that they're possibly coming makes a shiver go down his spine. He won't believe it until the nurses confirm it, of course. One time a girl told him that the very same Justin Bieber would come and it was bullshit. He's met plenty of celebrities before, because the hospital he's in is a well-recognized one, bless his mum for paying for it. The nurses always tell them a few days prior, so they are showered and pretty and they fix their messy beds before the famous person comes.

He has Demi Lovato's autograph glued to his wall, he has plenty of stories to tell.

His eye catches a message from Sean, his best friend, that says  _check that account u follow, dude, the 1d lads are doin charity, probs goin over der_ and his heart rate picks up once again. He wonders if the beeps get too alarming someone would come and check on him, wonders if it would be to embarrassing to say that he's fine, he just read a rumour about his favourite band coming to visit him.

Not exactly  _him_ but he reckons it sounds better than anything else.

 

+

 

He gets told the rumour is real and official two days after that. The nurse, a kind and lovely woman named Patricia tells him as she puts on the needle for his next session of chemo, "Yes, Niall, they confirmed their arrival yesterday, they're most likely to get here in a few days, we'll tell you the exact day this week" she says, patting his shoulder and leaving shortly after that.

Niall is sure this is the first time the chemo doesn't hurt.

 

+

 

"I hope every single one of you have your rooms tidy and clean for tomorrow morning. The One Direction boys will be here at noon to meet you and have a nice chat with all of you" Patricia announces to all the kids in the 'playground' room. It's more like a colourful room full of toys and crayons so the little kids don't get bored inside their rooms all day. Niall is nineteen, but he enjoys spending his time there rather than the T.V room that is for older patients. "We will wake you all up a little bit earlier so they don't arrive in the middle of the daily check-ups, okay?" There's a communal sound of agreements and Niall can't believe this is really happening.

 

His room is always clean. It's small and he has a big window that lets the sunlight in, when there's sun, that is. He likes to keep it organized. It's not like he has many things in there anyway, the longest he's had to stay at hospital was three months, after a major surgery that had to be done, but so far, this time he's only been two weeks hospitalized, has to stay for a while because cancer decided it was time to make another move.

He doesn't like to think about that.

He cleans anyway, makes sure the corners of his posters are glued to the wall and not hanging and risking to be broken. He changes his sheets and puts a rose and a vanilla scented candle by the window, he puts his favourite and most comfy pillow on the sofa next to his bed, so in case any of the boys want to sit there they find it comfortable enough to stay for a while.

Niall is not one for choosing favourites, but if Harry Styles asked for a seat right beside him he would never be able to deny it to him.

He imagines a thousand and one scenarios where he tells them his best jokes and they laugh loud at them, where they tell him all sort of funny stories about living life inside a tour bus and he hopes they never ask him about his disease. He imagines them nice and smiley, cheery like they always seem in the 800 interviews Niall has watched. He pictures Zayn or maybe Louis ruffling his hair, the little he still has left, and he pictures them smiling and telling him they had a good time, that they will come back.

Niall can't stop thinking about it and for the first time in months, he falls asleep with a small smile on his face.

 

+

 

Morning finally comes and Niall is disappointed to hear they will be separated in different rooms. 

He bits his nails for what feels like hours until there's a knock at his door. He's nervous, and anxious to see which one of them he'll get to meet. "Come in" he says, disliking how shaky his voice sounds already.

One of the nurses opens the door and smiles brightly at him, "Morning, Niall. I came here with a little surprise!" she sing-songs and then there's footsteps getting closer to his room.

Niall closes his eyes, shuts them tight and for bigger measure, puts his hands over his face. (Which doesn't help at all, because he still peeks out to see through the space between his fingers). He hears the nurse giggling, saying something like "stop being a baby and say hi!" so he does, slowly opens his eyes to see a pair of old, grubby, brown boots and his breath hitches in his throat as his gaze keeps going up and he sees a nice pair of legs wrapped perfectly in ripped skinny jeans and a sweater that looks fluffy and warm enough for a rainy day like today. He looks up completely to find a fond and amused smile and a pair of green eyes staring up at him, "Hi!" 

"I- uh, hello, yeah, I'm- Niall, hi," he replies awkwardly and mentally buries his head in his pillow. He just stuttered so badly in front of  _Harry Styles._

"No need to be shy, it's nice to meet you, I'm Harry," he beams at him, Niall is slowly melting in his sheets.

"Yeah I- I know that," he chuckles and feels something weird in his stomach when Harry laughs back, "you, want to take a seat or something? That sofa is quite good."

"Now that you mention, yeah, thanks! Lou made us run six flight of stairs, I'm knackered," he shakes his head as he sits down, carefully removing the pillow Niall had set there the night before, putting it on his lap and looking at Niall's room curiously, "you have quite a view from here, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do, it's nice to see the sunrise when I've got them early mornings," Niall says, getting comfortable in his bed, wrapping the blankets tighter around his body because today is one of those days when his ache is chronic, when painkillers don't help and cold makes it worse, "I tried to convince me mum to put the bed by the window but she said I was nuts."

Harry lets out a  _beautiful_ chuckle and he looks back at Niall, "Well, she's right! Imagine how cold would it be to sleep by that thing, is huge!" he laughs, "I like your room."

"Yeah? Thank you, I always like a bit of tidiness in here, makes me feel settled," and Niall doesn't really want to go there, doesn't want to bring the topic of " _what is your disease? why are you here?"_ doesn't want to tell Harry how hard it is to get used to be in a hospital for a good half of your life, he wants to avoid Harry asking anything related to that.

"I can relate, it's like at hotel rooms, I like to keep them clean so they feel more, homey? Not that this is a hotel but, you get my point, yeah?" Harry stumbles with his words and Niall blushes.

"Yeah, yeah it's something like that, we live similar lives, eh, with slight differences," Niall laughs.

"You've got a guitar over there, is it yours?" Harry asks, eyes wide with curiosity and genuine care.

"Yeah you could say that, I play it every once in a while, to the little kids in the ward, they love it. I guess it distracts them of this environment, and I guess it distracts me too," Niall word vomits. He didn't meant to say all of that, because he hates how every time he talks about his life he's talking about hospitals and sickness and  _cancer._ It's depressing, and that's not a side he wants Harry to see.

Harry is looking at him intently now, with something in his eyes that makes Niall flush, makes him feel small and wide open for Harry to see, like the curly haired boy is reading all his thoughts and feeling all his feelings. He really hopes he won't come out with something like " _you're so strong, Niall!"_ He's not up for any of that bullshit.

"Can I hear you play? Any song you want, or not if you, uh, if you don't want to play, that's okay too-"

"Harry of course" Niall interrupts his babbling, "I mean, sure, of course I will play for you," he smiles at him and Harry smiles back and nods.

"Do you want me to grab it? Or..." Harry asks, pointing at the guitar that is sitting sad and lonely in the other side of the room. Niall thinks it would be a long walk, for him anyway, for his leg that is always throbbing and making it difficult to take a few steps by himself, he wants to save the embarrassment of Harry seeing him like that, so he quakes out a small "yeah, please," as he removes some of the blankets and makes room for his beloved guitar.

Harry puts it softly beside him on the bed and stays there for a few seconds until Niall looks up at him to find a question in his eyes, "you can sit on the bed if you want, not as comfy as the sofa but, yeah." Harry doesn't hesitate, he sits close to him, warmth radiating off of him and making Niall queasy. "Do you have any special request, I mean, you're the guest here."

"No, not really, play anything you want, I'll be glad with whatever you choose," he says with a small smile on his face. Niall starts playing random chords, he lets his fingers run softly against the strings until he finds a rhythm he feels familiar with. He goes with 'the A team'. He starts singing quietly but it gets a bit louder when he sees nothing but amazement in Harry's eyes. They finish together, and it's a kind of a joke, Harry exaggerating the last note and Niall laughing at him loudly, all the bashfulness gone, and they end up laughing together for what feels like an eternity.

"You have a lovely voice, Niall," Harry says sincerely when their laughs have turned into quiet giggles and their cheeks are not as red, "I really enjoyed it, you have this thing, like, it's wonderful, you sing with your soul," Harry smiles, "I'm saying ridiculous things but, you really do have a fantastic voice."

Niall is blushing like a mad man, trying to get his smile to go down, "I- wow Harry thank you, I just- coming from you this is just-"

"Don't say that, I'm just a lad like you, who loves to sing too," Harry shrugs, "nothing special, really."

"Are you kidding?" Niall huffs, "Harry you are, you four are fucking brilliant!"

And this time is Harry's turn to blush, "Oh shut it you!" Harry laughs.

"I'm serious, I was shitting my pants when I heard you guys were coming," Niall shakes his head.

"Are you a fan, then?" Harry asks, and Niall thinks that is a smug smile on his face.

"And you are just now figuring it out? Didn't it give you a clue when I couldn't even look at you when you got in the room?" 

Harry's smile widens at that, "I thought you were just shy" he says, but he gets interrupted by a loud and obnoxious knock in the door that is followed by a "c'mon Harry, we gotta go!" that Niall recognizes as Louis' voice. Harry looks apologetic and sad when he looks back at him.

"I'm- wow this hour passed by way too fast, didn't it?" he chuckles as he fixes his hair, Niall's heart is beating unhealthily fast once again, "do you maybe want a picture or something?"

Niall doesn't want Harry to leave, not so soon, not when they still have so many things to talk about, when Niall wants to keep making Harry laugh, when he still wants Harry to share stories and jokes with him. 

"Niall?" Harry's voice startles him and he looks at him with wide and sad eyes.

"Yeah, sorry, uhm could you sign my guitar?" he asks, and his fingers shake when he hands the guitar to Harry. The younger boy smiles at him brightly and signs it, moving his fingers painstakingly slow, and when he's done, Niall grabs the guitar again to find a neat and perfectly clear  _Harry Styles xx :)_ at the bottom of it. He wants to cry suddenly, he wants this to last longer, he wants to stay in Harry’s calm and gentle presence for a few hours more.

"Niall, would you freak out if I say I want to stay in touch with you?" Harry asks, "like we could text, maybe? You don’t seem to be the type to share my number in every social media, I feel like I can trust you," he laughs, but he looks nervous, and if Niall's gut feeling is right, he's more nervous about texting Niall than about fangirls getting his phone number.

"Jesus, are you serious? Of course, I would love to! Keeping touch with you, I mean, not giving out your number!" Niall's cheeks flush for the umpteenth time that hour but he doesn't care because Harry looks relieved and genuinely  _happy_ with his answer.

They exchange numbers and take a pic (that Niall will print and stick on his wall as soon as he can) and when Harry leaves, he kisses Niall's cheek gently, as if he's just checking if it's okay, when he sees a glint in Niall's eyes he does it again, with more determination this time.

 

+

 

His next chemo session is less bearable than the last one. It’s just a few hours after Harry and the rest of the boys left, and Niall had been feeling in cloud nine until he passed out on his way to the bathroom. 

It’s been happening more often than not, this blacking out thing. He’s feeling alright until he’s not. Until he can’t hold himself up, not even sitting, and his body shuts down. He’s lost count of the amount of scares he’s given his mum, and the nurses, and as a consequence, after dealing with more needles and x-rays, he was told the best option was to add a few more chemo sessions per week. Despite the fact that he felt weaker and sicker each time, the doctors guaranteed him that this was the only way to prevent metastasis.

It’s after he pukes for the third time in less than an hour that his mum states he needs a distraction. And when the sparse replies he’s been getting from Sean get too frustrating, he takes deep breaths until he musters up the courage to send a simple _hey_ to Harry.

The response comes five minutes after, _Niall? Hiiiiiiiiiiii! Good to hear from you. X_

 _Same ! What r u up to?_  Niall sends back. He feels lightheaded enough to not worry if he’s stepping over invisible boundaries, he’s just delighted he’s texting Harry Styles yet it feels like he’s just talking to his childhood friends.

_Not much. Having a bite before going on stage. You? :)_

That’s when Niall freezes. Because how does he casually say he’s at one of his usual chemo sessions without talking about chemo sessions?

His mum squeezes his knee from where she’s sitting beside him on the bed, obviously and unashamedly reading Niall’s text conversation. Niall is not bothered. She probably won’t believe he’s actually talking to _the_ Harry Styles.

“You can tell him, love. Actually, you _should_.” Maura says.

“Mum, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m talking to Harry, like, you know One Direction’s Harry. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable by talking about my illness when he’s having a grand time with his mates.”

Maura just looks at him sadly, “Honey, I am aware. The nurses told me how you two were staring lovingly at each other the whole hour he visited,” she says. Niall doesn’t miss the teasing tone of her voice, “but if he gave you his number, is for a reason.”

Niall hears what she’s not voicing out loud, and she’s right. Harry knows about his condition, whether he was told by one of the nurses, or he read it right off his chart that’s glued to the end of this bed. He knows Niall is sick, and Niall achieves nothing by not talking about it, because it’s still there. A heavy and unwanted topic neither of them wants to touch but that’s not going away. Not any time soon at least.

His phone buzzes in his hand, startling him. _You still there? :( Don’t go!!!_

 _Yeah im here, sorry, got a bit distracted over here haha_ he sends back. The fact that cancer is the elephant in the room doesn’t mean he has to acknowledge it right away.

 _Am I not interesting enough?!_ Harry sends, with a broken heart emoji at the end of the text, Niall chuckles.

_Damn, what gave it away? :P_

_Niaaaaaaaaaall!! :(_

_Hahaha Im jokin ! I quite like u, I think_

_Oh, do you? I quite like you too Mr Niall….?_

_Horan hhahah_

_Mr Horan! I’d love to stay here for a while but, duty calls_

_Go smash it mate, tell me about it later, rock it out !_

_Thanks :) Have a good sleep x_

And there’s that.

 

+

 

It doesn’t stop there, of course. Most mornings Niall wakes up to a new message from Harry, sometimes a few missed calls, because Harry is in the U.S, Niall has noticed he often forgets about the bothersome time difference and always ends up calling Niall when he’s deeply asleep at ungodly hours in the morning.

It also doesn’t help that Niall’s been sleeping his age in hours.

It’s been 2 weeks and a bit since they met, and Niall still hasn’t felt brave enough to tell Harry about how ill he is. They spend hours texting and talking to each other on the phone. Sometimes even on Skype, when Harry has time and Niall feels awake enough. He’s also found the chemo gets just a bit easier with Harry’s endless knock knock jokes to distract him.

Today, though, it’s one of those days when the sky is clear and the sun is out but Niall doesn’t have the energy to even speak. He’s been ignoring the incessant buzzing of his phone since he woke up screaming in pain two hours ago. The morphine they gave him soothes the ache, but it also makes him feel like the smallest movement will break him in two.

His phone keeps vibrating, he pushes the button to call one of the nurses – who comes panting and looking alert – Niall has the audacity to feel guilty.

“Niall! For God’s sake, are you alright? How many scares will you give us until you understand that button is for emergencies only!” The nurse – Marty – Niall recalls, tells him.

Niall doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even show any sign of having listened to any of it, he just squeezes his eyes tighter and buries himself deeper into the blankets.

He hears Marty sigh, her footsteps coming closer, “what do you need, Nialler? Is the morphine working alright?”

Niall grunts, tries to move his head to nod. “Use your words, okay? How are you feeling, darling?” Marty is one of Niall’s favourite nurses. Because she’s gentle and patient, she lets Niall take his time to do the simplest things.

“Hurts, it hurts less but hurts,” Niall mumbles, “phone’s been buzzin’ for hours.”

“Oh, need me to fetch it for you, don’t you?” she asks playfully, “Is Harry demanding your attention again, eh? You have 5 missed calls and 8 unread texts, all from him.” She squeezes his hand and continues, “he wants you on Skype at 3pm sharp, says that it’s from high importance, must not miss it.”

“I can’t-“

“You can, and you will. It’s just 10am right now, give some time for the meds to fully kick in, we’ll keep you monitored and pain-free as much as we can, okay? Just sleep. I’ll wake you up a bit before to see how you’re feeling for that Skype call.”

“You’re the best Marty,” Niall mutters, opening his puffy red eyes to look at her. “t’anks”

“None of that, little fighter, now get some sleep. I’ll see you later.”

 

+

 

A bit after 3pm, Niall reckons he's feeling somewhat better. He managed to keep down his lunch and he’s been awake since then, taking small walks around the hallways to keep his legs from getting numb, as the nurses advised. His mum takes him back to his room, which has been cleaned and tidied while he was having lunch, it looks way better like this, with the curtains open and the bed made, looks less haunting.

 “Is your laptop charged? Or do it plug it in anyway?” His mum asks as Niall slowly finds a comfortable position in the bed.

“It’s dead, I think,” he replies, forcing down a wince when he puts too much weight on his leg to arrange his pillows.

“Oh, what are you doing? Niall, please. Let me help you with that!” Maura more or less yells at him.

“I can do it, mum,” Niall whines, scrunching his eyes when a shooting pain up his leg makes him lose his balance and he ends up falling on his side, dangerously close to the edge of the bed. He’s going to give Maura a heart attack one of these days.

“Niall! Stop doing this. There’s nothing wrong with needing help,” Maura chastises him, helping him on his back, propped up by a good amount of pillows, with his blankets covering from waist down, where he feels the coldest. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

Niall nods, squeezing his mum’s hand, “’M good, mum, sorry. Thought I could fix me bed myself.” He mutters bitterly, not bothering to hide how upset and pathetic he feels.

Maura knows better than to say something else. She knows that in days like this Niall gets difficult, stubborn in a way that worries her sometimes. She quietly helps him settling his laptop on top of a pillow on his lap, neither of them say anything until Niall signs up in Skype, and before connecting the call with Harry, he turns to her, smiling sadly, “love you, mom.”

Maura nods and kisses his forehead, “I love you too, Ni. Tell Harry I say hi, yeah?” she slips out of the room when Harry’s blurry face appears in the screen, Niall’s wide smile assuring her that he’d be alright.

 

+

 

Harry's news are the most exciting thing out of the gloomy day he's having, he announced, with a huge and dimpled smile that they have an upcoming two-weeks break, and that he plans on coming to visit Niall. The blonde boy tries to tell him off, he’s sure Harry must have more interesting things to do. Better places to go than staying in a hospital with Niall’s sour mood… but it’s either Niall doesn’t try hard enough, or Harry’s mind is already set on it, no way of turning back.

Niall thinks it’s both.

As it always happens, they both lose sense of time while they’re talking, Niall only realizes it’s been hours since he accepted the call when he can’t finish a full sentence without yawning, and the throb in his knee is just another sign that the meds are wearing off. He feels exhausted; he’s been in pain since he woke up in the late morning, and he doesn’t want it to get worse enough to worry Harry.

“You look tired, Nialler. Should I let you rest?” Harry asks from the other side, a concerned frown taking over his face when Niall bites his lip to choke down a whimper. “You okay?”

“I’m- yeah I’m okay, just, knackered. Been a long day,” he musters up a smile, adjusting his blankets to be more lying down than sitting up. He can’t feel his toes.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, just go to sleep, love,” he says, “I’ll call you when I get to London, deal?”

Niall nods, feeling a bit more awake, “yeah, yeah sure, of course, I’ll have my phone with me at all times.”

“Good. Don’t keep me in the dark like you did earlier today,” Harry says, glaring playfully at him, it makes Niall laugh, but his stomach churns unpleasantly at the reminder of the terrible morning he had.

“I hope it won’t happen again, Haz.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, looking down at his hands and biting his lip. Niall has a feeling he _knows_ something was wrong when Niall ignored his calls and texts for a good 3 hours, but he’s glad Harry doesn’t mention it, “I hope it never happens again.”

“It’s a bit early but, I’m heading up to bed now,” Niall says, and then he snorts and shakes his head, “I mean, I’m already in bed, but, y’know,” he laughs, looking away and pointedly ignoring Harry’s sad smile.

“Sweet dreams, Ni, we’ll talk tomorrow,“ Harry says, blowing a kiss to Niall and making a blush appear bright on Niall’s cheeks, as much as Niall tries to hide it and play it off, he’s sure Harry can see it through the bad lighting and the blurriness of his screen.

He blows a kiss to Harry too, feeling a bit bashful and fidgety, but he manages to fall asleep shortly after that, imagining Harry actually kissing him goodnight.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought this chapter was gonna be a little bit longer, but i decided to organize this fic in four parts, so yeah! hope you like it!!! thank you for all the kudos and sweet comments on the first part, it really reaaally means a lot to me<3 please, tell me what you think, and again, all your thoughts, ideas, and constructive criticism is always appreciate it.

Niall wakes up the next morning to the rustling of pages turning. He’s too sleepy to be confused as to who could be keeping him company while he slept. If his body clock is right, it can’t be past noon yet, meaning his mum is still at work.

Turning around is always a hassle, but after realizing there’s no way he’s going back to sleep, he does so, opening his eyes slowly, a hazy and blurry image of someone sitting on his sofa appearing as soon as he blinks. It definitely doesn’t look like his mum, the figure looks lean and tall. Their back is against the arm of the couch and there’s a pair of legs dangling from the other, combat boots moving back and forth, making Niall a bit dizzy.

He can see the shape of a book on the person’s lap, his mind sluggishly keeping up – that’s where the rustling was coming from. He scrubs a hand through his hair and face, blinking a few more times until he can see a bit better. He looks back at the person sitting on his sofa, who still hasn’t realized he’s already awake, and he sees black and messy flat hair, a cute nose, a decent scruff on his face going a bit down his neck. His gaze goes down, feeling slighty more awake, he sees ink scattered all over the person’s arm, and he chokes down a gasp when he sees the very familiar _zap_ tattoo on the person’s forearm.

It can’t be.

Niall must have made a noise, of sorts, because the person turns to looks up at him, wide owlish eyes blinking and his mouth shaped in what seems to be an amused smile.

“Oh, hey. You’re awake, took you a while, eh?” _Zayn_ says, standing up and leaving his book – comic book, Niall notices belatedly – on top of Niall’s small beside table. “I’m Zayn. It’s good to finally meet you.”

Niall nods at him, feeling numb, in a good and very overwhelming kind of way. “I- I’m Niall, but, what? I mean, you. It’s you! What are you- why are you here?” Niall splutters out, “I mean, it’s good too, to meet you I mean, finally meet you, but, just-“

“Hey, breathe for a second,” Zayn says. That’s when Niall notices the breathing machine beside him is making a funny noise.

“Sorry. Fuck, sorry, you just, you’re here, with me, what the hell! You’re Zayn Malik!” Niall laughs, rubbing his face with both of his hands, “The nurses told me I would not start hallucinating anytime soon, what the fuck is going on.”

Zayn’s chuckle brings him out of whatever stupor he got himself in, “Mate, I can assure you the nurses didn’t lie.”

“But you’re Zayn Malik.” Niall deadpans. He must have slipped into a coma while he was asleep.

But the boy, _Zayn,_ is still standing right in front of him, nodding and looking down at himself, as if he’s checking if he really is Zayn Malik, “I am, yeah,” he shrugs.

“I don’t-“

“Niall, your mind is not playing you any trick, I am here. Dunno why that is so hard to believe, but yeah. I’m Zayn, you’re Niall and Harry is down at the cafeteria getting us some coffee. You know, jetlag and all.”

Right in that moment, his door opens and Harry’s smiling face comes into view. He’s carrying three cups of steaming coffee, letting the door close shut with the heel of his boot and carefully putting all three cups down on Niall’s table, blowing his hands and muttering a _that was_ _bloody hot,_ and wiping them with the back of his jeans. He looks up to the both of them, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Hi! You’re awake!” In less than two steps he’s on Niall’s bed, wrapping his arms tightly yet gently around his small frame, “So good to see you Niall. Skype doesn’t do you any justice.”

He vaguely notices Zayn mumbling a quiet, “I’ll leave you two to yourselves for a sec,” and slipping out of the room silently.

Niall hugs Harry back when the door is closed, and lets himself relax in Harry’s embrace.

“How you doing?” Harry asks, sitting back on Niall’s bed and taking his hand in his warmer one.

“I’m good, I think, yeah,” Niall smiles up at Harry, hoping it looks reassuring, “And you? Thought you said you’d call me when you got to London.” Niall says, glaring half-heartedly at Harry.

He’s still not sure if Zayn was real.

“Yeah, about that,” Harry winces playfully at him, Niall slaps his arm softly, not letting go of his hand, “I wanted it to be a surprise! Zayn said I should call you first, but I didn’t.” Harry shrugs, “You met Zayn though, did he behave well? I wanted to stay here until you woke up, but he didn’t want to go all the way down to the cafeteria again.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Oh. Yeah, well, about that,” Niall says, mimicking what Harry did a minute ago. “I may have thought I was hallucinating and I repeated his name like eight hundred times until you arrived,” Niall says, looking down at his sheets, “I think I also gave him a scare because this stupid machines started making funky noises.”

Harry is laughing before Niall’s blush even reaches his nose, Niall glances at him and catches his green eyes shining with something he’d like to define as _fond_. “Oh, Niall,” Harry keeps laughing, if Niall wasn’t so infatuated by him he’d feel offended.

“Shut up!” Niall giggles, letting go of Harry’s hand and pushing him so he’s half lying in the bed, his feet still touching the ground.

“You don’t know how adorable you are,” Harry softly says, as if he said it just for himself. Niall hears, though, of course he does, Harry is almost lying on his lap, the little breathy laughs he’s still letting out vibrating on Niall’s left leg, Niall is glad he’s not feeling too sore today.

There’s a knock on the door that makes Niall jump a bit, making Harry burst into giggles again as he stands up and goes to open it.

“Harold, you look red, what were you two doing in there?” A voice Niall recognizes says loudly, right outside his door.

Harry is still trying to regain his breath, clutching at his stomach as he laughs once more, “Shush Lou!” he breathlessly says, “just come in already,” he says, opening the door wider and wiggling his eyebrows at Niall.

Niall has a dreadful feeling mixed with excitement and anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He’s about the meet the rest of One Direction in his ugliest pyjamas and morning breath.

It feels like hours instead of seconds pass until he sees Louis sneaking his head inside, looking curiously at his surroundings until his bright blue eyes set on Niall. “Oh, my goodness, so you’re the famous, Niall!” He says, getting closer to the bed and sticking his hand out towards Niall. He’s about to go for a hand shake, trying to ignore his shaking fingers, when Louis drops his hand and turns around to look at Harry, “He’s a cute lad.”

Harry looks a bit offended, even if it’s Niall the one who still has his hand raised in the air, but Niall is the one who laughs. Louis turns around again to look at him, “I like you, Niall,” he says, “Are you two going to say hi to my friend here?” he points at Liam and Zayn, and then back at Niall, “such rude friends I have, Niall, I’m sorry.”

Niall is probably looks a bit stupid, grinning at Louis and shaking his head.

“Hello there, Niall, this curly boy here has been talking our ears off for the last two weeks. Lovely to finally put a face to everything he’s told us of you,” Liam says, walking slowly towards Niall’s bed, as if he’s checking if it’s okay to do so.

Niall smiles brightly at him. What a wonderfully weird day he’s having.

“We’ve already met, kinda, “Zayn says, “but I feel I should introduce myself properly this time.”

Niall is sure his blush has reached his ears at this point, “Oh God, Zayn, I’m- I’m sorry, what I did earlier was so dumb, holy shit,” Niall mumbles, Zayn laughs quietly.

“You have no reason to say sorry, I surprised you when you have just woken up,” Zayn says shrugging, sitting back in the sofa and smiling at him. “You actually are really cute.” He states, winking at Harry and the turning back to look at him.  

Niall’s hands won’t stop shaking. He’s always been pretty confident on himself, he knows how to keep his friends entertained, he can maintain a good chat, but right now, he feels exposed, bashful, underdressed, even. With the four people he’s looked up to the past two years expecting him to say something, he struggles dealing with the messy, mushy and terrifying things he’s feeling right now

“It’s- wow, it’s just, wicked to meet you all,” Niall blushes, bright red all over his pale cheeks, “this is unreal, oh god, mum’s not gonna believe this.” He chuckles softly, “I want, I have so much to say but, oh God,” he cackles, gnawing his bottom lip as his eyes flicker to each of the boys, “I’m so fucking glad to have you all here, honest to God, I thought I’d never-“ _live to see this day._ He almost says, but he swallows his words like they’re sand.

His gaze falls on Harry, who has stayed quiet but observant while everyone got introduced to everyone. He has a small and twitching smile on his face, like he’s holding down a huge grin. It fills Niall with relief and comfort. Makes him breath out a nervous laugh and he lets himself fall back on his pillows, hiding his pinky cheeks and his giant smile.

He feels a hand on his back, but instead of flinching, he relaxes, the rise and fall of his chest feeling less harsh the longer the hand stays there. “We’re glad to be here too, Ni,” Harry says, rubbing soothingly the blonde’s back “now, how about you tell us how is that you thought Zayn was a fever dream when you woke up?”

Louis bursts out laughing, making Liam laugh as well. Niall slides out of his hiding spot in between his nest of pillows to catch Zayn rolling his eyes fondly at both of them, and then he looks back at Harry, finding a small smile for him there. He sits again, feeling more alive than he’s felt in weeks, and proceeds to tell them the ridiculous story.

When he finishes, he realizes three things; one, he’s not in any pain, despite the fact that he hasn’t taken any kind of painkiller since the night before. Two, Harry and him are good at sneakily holding hands under Niall’s duvet. And three; it feels good to laugh loud and lively, without holding back, without worrying about meds, cancer cell counts on his bones and his dodgy leg. He’s alright, laughing with this boys as if they’ve been friends for months instead of just a couple of hours.

 

++

 

 

Niall stays in hopeful spirits for a bit more than a week. The boys keep coming over every chance they have to, sometimes all of them, sometimes two, sometimes it’s just Harry and him watching mindless T.V and holding each other hands without even noticing.

He’s been lucky they always arrive after his sessions of chemo, or they leave before he has one. It’s not like Niall likes keeping secrets from them, because after all, it’s not a secret at all. They do drive all the way to the hospital, go to the fifth floor, the cancer wing of the hospital, to visit him a couple of hours. They know, but they don’t. Niall is not sure if he wants to keep it that way.

Today though, the luck is not on his side. It starts when Marty comes to tell him that he has his chemo session two hours early today, seeing as the guy that was before him was discharged yesterday, and it all comes downhill from there.

He had a small breakfast not more than an hour ago, and everything inside him churns uncomfortably when they put the needle on his right arm. It stings, mumbled swearing coming out unchecked from his mouth as a new nurse he’s never seen before fumbles with the machines beside him. She hasn’t looked at him in the eyes since she stiffly said a forced _good morning_ at him, and usually Niall would blame it on being first day nerves, but she looks experienced, confident in what she’s doing. She's clearly not new.

She leaves with an “I’ll be back in two hours, Mr Horan,” letting the door close too loudly behind her.

Niall decides he doesn’t like her.

Not even half an hour later, Niall starts feeling a bit queasy, maybe is the fact that he’s never eaten right before chemo before, always making sure there’s at least three hours between digesting his food and getting meds pumped into his body. But today he didn’t have an option, so maybe it’s that, too, that he felt trapped and cornered when they dragged in a shabby wheelchair down the long, haunting corridor, and immediately snuck a needle in his arm, breaking his fragile skin once again, not even asking him if he was comfortable, if he wanted a bucket close to his bed.

He’s all alone. With scary looking machines and an incessant twinge in his knee.

He could blame the increasing feeling of nausea on the pain, but he knows, deep down, that he’s just worrying his little head off. It’s distressing, thinking that Harry could come over any minute to find his usual room empty. It’s even more disturbing to imagine him finding him like this. Chemo always makes him feel weaker, and somehow, letting Harry see him this vulnerable makes bile rise up in his throat.

He doses off a few minutes after focusing on his breathing to prevent any puking. It's always a restless sleep when he naps during his chemo. Perturbing and horrifying nightmares always make it impossible for him to just sleep the treatment off. It's dreadful if he's awake, always feeling in the verge of throwing up, but his sleep is never pleasant these days. He won't ever get used to it.

When he opens his eyes again, the first thing his unfocused eyes see is Harry’s hand. 

He startles, jumping out of Harry’s arms. Who knows how and when he cuddled up into Harry’s chest, God only knows when Harry got here, most importantly.

“Hey, shh. Why so frightened? It’s just me,” Harry whispers, letting his arm fall back on Niall’s shoulders and gently guiding him down to the bed. “You okay?”

“What are you doing?” Niall mumbles, voice hoarse and mouth dry.

“Was just texting the lads to not come over,” Harry answers quietly, “something tells me you’re not up for their banter today. Yeah?”

Niall frowns, but he nods his head at Harry, “what time is’t?”

“Just past eleven.”

Niall’s sigh of relief doesn’t go unnoticed. “Are you going to stay?”

“Of course I’m going to stay. Where else should I go?” Harry says, clearly confused and a bit taken aback, “unless you don’t want me here, I can go, of cou- Niall?”

Niall is squeezing his eyes closed, so tightly he can feel every wrinkle forming on his skin. The queasiness is back, but this time Niall knows for sure he’s not going to keep his breakfast down for a minute longer.

“Niall? Hey, answer me, is everything okay?” Harry’s voice sounds distant, even though he’s as close to Niall as he’s ever been.

“Haz- the b- please just, the bucket, I’m gonna-“

Harry doesn’t reach the bucket in time. He flies out of his seat, stumbling with his own legs until he finds it in the corner of Niall’s bed. By the time he puts in right under Niall’s chin, he’s gotten puke all over his lap. It’s not a pretty thing to see, but Harry can only focus on how harsh Niall’s breathing is. How he seems to be choking doing something apparently so simple as taking air in and out of his lungs. He’s clutching his stomach with one hand, the other – the one with the needle – is holding his blanket tightly, and Harry takes that hand in his, letting Niall squeeze it as hard as he needs to.

It doesn’t last more than five minutes, but Harry feels like an eternity has passed until Niall sags against him.  He worries for a second, ready to scream bloody murder until he realizes Niall is not passed out. He’s pale as a sheet, yeah, but he’s awake. Trying to sit by himself and failing. Harry doesn’t say anything as he lowers the bucket on the floor again, getting a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping lightly Niall’s chin with it.

He throws it into the bucket, not giving a fuck if he never sees it again, and takes off his ratty bandana to wipe away Niall’s tears.

“You’re okay. It’s over, yeah? You’re fine, Ni. It’s all good, we’re gonna get you sorted out,” Harry whispers, trying to seem somewhat calm and not letting Niall see the shaking of his hands. Niall is shivering quite violently in the thin gown he’s wearing. “I’m going to call a nurse. Let them take you back to you room, and we’ll put on a footie game and cuddle until you’re warm again, okay? No worries.”

Niall closes his eyes and turns his face away from Harry. It feels as if someone’s squeezing Harry’s heart. He feels winded, he faintly notices he’s the one who’s panting, not Niall.

“I’ll be right back, won’t take me more than two minutes, love,” Harry whispers softly, trying to cover Niall with the clean half of the blanket, even though Niall’s gown is ruined too, his main priority is keeping Niall warm.

 

+

 

The nurse, Marty this time, comes into the room looking worried, with a pale and still trembling Harry following her right behind. It takes her one look at Niall to deduce what happened, and she turns into overprotective mother mode, just how Niall likes her to be, it makes him feel a bit safer when his mum is not with him.

“Oh, darling. This hasn’t happened in a while, has it?” Marty fusses, trying to move him as little as possible. She knows how poorly Niall feels after being sick, and even if she didn’t know, seeing how fragile Niall looks at the moment, anyone would treat him with care.

“It was bound to happen sometime, my boy, next time we’ll schedule it so you don’t have chemo right after your meals, I promise you.” Marty motions at Harry to come and help her. Niall is as still has Harry has ever seen him. It pains him to know Niall’s hurting, to know there’s nothing he can do to help but listen as Marty gives him the simplest instructions to help Niall back in his room.

He winces when she takes the needle out of Niall’s arm, and the whimper that comes from Niall’s mouth makes him want to slide down the wall and cry.

“Okay, Harry, I’ll hold his legs and you’ll lift him up and put him down on the wheelchair. Slow and gentle movements, okay? He’s in a state, we have to cause him the least trouble we can.”

It’s easier said than done. As soon as Marty moves Niall’s legs he cries out in pain, he clenches his hands around nothing and Harry’s eyes well up with tears when he lifts Niall’s skinny torso and he hears the quiet, “no, no more, please, stop it,” that Niall is muttering to himself. When Niall is sat on the wheelchair, Harry is sweating, both from his forehead and from his eyes. Niall is hunched over himself, as if the effort of keeping himself up is too much for him right now.

He doesn’t miss the amount of times Niall snivels as he rubs his left leg. He wants to ask, but he knows it’s not the right moment.

“We have to get him cleaned and changed first than anything,” Marty says when they finally reach Niall’s room. “There are some baby wipes on top of that desk and his pyjamas in the bag behind the sofa, can you get them for me Harry, please?”

Harry sprints into action, handing Marty everything she needs until she starts to undress Niall. His skin is itching, limbs fidgety with the need to help, to soothe Niall’s ache with his own hands.

Niall makes a small noise from the back of his throat suddenly, right before Marty unbuttons the back of his gown, and when Harry turns to look at him, he shakes his head, a plea clear and painful in his eyes.

Harry swiftly and quietly slips out of the room.

 

+

 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Niall mumbles in Harry’s skin half an hour later. They’re cuddling in Niall’s bed, just as Harry promised. Niall’s skin had been cleaned and his dirty smudged gown was thrown away.  Now he’s wearing fluffy and fresh clean pyjamas, his teeth are brushed and his face washed. Harry can feel him more relaxed in his arms. “Bet I was quite a sight.” He sighs sadly.

“Don’t you dare saying sorry one more time, Niall Horan,” Harry says, kissing Niall’s forehead lightly. He isn’t sure when this started, this cheek and forehead kissing, and the cuddling. He guesses it was around the same time holding hands felt the most natural thing he’s ever done. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much help. You gave me quite a scare, I was a freaking mess.”

He feels Niall shaking his head against his chest, “You kept me sane.”

Harry hugs Niall closer to his chest, and Niall tangles his fingers in his sweater, "You look good with your hair like that, y'know?" Niall smiles up at him, it's small, but it's enough for Harry.

"Really, you think so?" Harry teases, looking down at Niall and messing a bit his hair.

"Yes, you do, keep it that way," Niall mutters, almost falling asleep, “will you stay?”

“Yeah, I’m staying, Nialler. Couldn’t possibly go anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave your comments<3 see you next time :)


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took much longer than i ever tought it would!!! im sorry it's been a little while without updating, but here you have it. It's the longest part of this fic and it's an absolute rollercoaster. also, if you haven't read the warnings i gave in the first chapter, please go back to read them out before reading this part, because it has every warning (spoiler) i gave.
> 
> please tell me what you think! and i want to say a big big thank you for all your sweet and encouraging words, they mean a lot!
> 
> have a good reading<3 excuse if there's any grammar/spelling mistake. it feels as if i read this 4 billion times, but sometimes there are tiny mistakes that escape me, so yeah, don't doubt in telling me if i should correct something.

The chemos were rescheduled after that. Niall had his mornings free, and then at 3pm, they carried him to the chemo therapy wing of the hospital, just two floors up from his room. Sometimes he’d be able to walk himself, always leaning on someone’s arm – usually Harry’s. But some others, the wheelchair would be the only way to get there. In the most awful days; when bending his leg felt as if it was being exposed to burning fire, those days Niall asked to be carried in his bed. To not be moved, and to be left alone.

Harry didn’t leave though. It’s been roughly two months since the first time they talked to each other, and each passing day, Harry feels prouder. Because Niall still has a long way to go, but he looks stronger day by day. He eats more, and he keeps it down. He actually asks the nurses to let him go to walk around the halls, it makes him feel less useless.

Harry always goes with him, if he can help it. Always ready to put a steady hand on Niall’s waist to keep him upright, never saying anything or looking at Niall any way different. Banter always present between them. Even when Niall’s legs cramped and numbed and Harry had to call a nurse to let them go back, Harry learnt how to never look at Niall with pity.

 

The morning before his last week of chemo, Niall wakes up with Harry glued to his side. He had announced, just the night before, that now that tour is over, he has a long break, almost four months with just small events and promo days scattered around, and he proudly and convinced told Niall he better get ready for all the trouble he was going to cause, because he doesn’t plan on leaving his side. Niall happily told him he could start by staying the night, right there with him.

He smiles without even knowing, looking at Harry with messy hair and his soft-looking cheeks, his eyelids are moving in what Niall hopes are nice dreams. It’s a little tempting, how easily it could be to reach out a hand and brush his hair off his forehead. Niall’s tunnel vision leads him to Harry’s lips, though, pouty, puckered and the perfect shade of pink, and they’re _right there_ , making it so hard for Niall to look away.

His hands slowly and soundlessly come out of the duvet, he gently puts his right hand in Harry’s cheek, he’s warm to the touch and his skin is smooth as Niall’s fingers trace every feature. His other hand is still tangled beneath the covers, close to Harry’s heart, Niall keeps it there, finding the rise and fall of Harry’s chest comforting.

The rain pouring outside is lulling him back to sleep, he feels content right where he is. Painless, warm and loved. He closes his eyes and easily falls asleep.

 

The next time he wakes up, he’s sure Harry’s already awake, he can still feel his heartbeat close to his chest, and there’s a hand playing with the small and thin hairs that his beanie doesn’t cover. He groggily opens his eyes to find Harry’s face really close to his, a small smile coming in and out of focus every time he blinks.

“Good morning, Ni,” Harry says, “we slept in quite a bit.”

Niall groans, cuddling closer to Harry. That’s when he realizes he has his right arm wrapped around Harry’s neck, it must have slipped down there when he fell asleep with it on Harry’s face. The memory makes him blush, and he hides his face in the expanse of Harry’s chest.

“C’mon you sleepy numpty,” Harry kisses his forehead before leaning back, trying to get Niall to look at him, “can’t have you missing breakfast, can we?”

Niall shakes his head, and he feels the vibrations of Harry’s laugh in his whole chest. It takes him a good three minutes to make sure the bright colour of his cheeks is at least partially gone until he finally lifts his head. “Hi.”

Harry grins small at him, his mouth stretching bigger and bigger the more he looks at Niall, “Hi, yourself.”

They’re doing nothing more than just looking at each other, Harry’s hands on his waist feel like they’re pulling him closer, which Niall thought impossible, but now he feels Harry’s heart beating a tad faster and closer than before. His fingers find Harry’s shirt, and he squeezes it, his other hand is still in Harry’s neck, his fingers itching to tangle in Harry’s hair and pushing him that small inch that’s still between them.

Harry closes his eyes, then, ducking his head so his foreheads are touching, and he smiles shyly, shaking his head. Niall feels his stomach drop for a second, thinking Harry is going to pull back and laugh it all off, as if they’re not seconds and millimetres away from _kissing._

He doesn’t, he opens his eyes again, and his left hand leaves Niall’s waist to go to his lips. It’s Niall who closes his eyes this time, as Harry caresses his lips, he just breathes, waiting for something, _anything_ to happen.

Harry takes a huge intake of breath that has Niall opening his eyes suddenly. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been like this, how long they’ll be like this. But he doesn’t care. The closeness and the butterflies Harry’s making him feel are worth the wait, because it feels like he’s waiting, like this unity they’ve formed with their tangled bodies is not the big prize, and he doesn’t have to wait too long to confirm it.

Harry parts his lips, licking them quickly before looking up at Niall with a question in his eyes, “I,” he gulps, Niall squeezes his neck, fingers moving restlessly over the same curl, over and over again, “can I kiss you?”

Niall is nodding before Harry even finishes the question, and he has just the few seconds needed to lick his dry lips.

It doesn’t last long, it’s a shy peck on the lips, like they’re both testing the waters. They take a deep breath when their lips part, and Niall smiles, he smiles big and proud as he whispers, “do it again.”

This time, he doesn’t think it twice as he presses his fingers against Harry’s scalp, pulling him closer. _That’s what I call a kiss,_ Niall thinks, opening his lips just enough to take it a bit further. Harry makes a noise in the back of his throat when Niall lets him inside, his hand disappears inside Niall’s sleeping shirt, his fingers gently run all over the skin he can find, tracing every bump of bone, terrifyingly aware he can count every rib, he goes back to Niall’s tummy, back to where he is marvellously soft.

When they break away, Harry’s lips stay on Niall’s skin, he kisses his jaw, the juncture of his neck, he makes a pathway from his earlobe to his forehead until Niall’s breathing goes back to normal. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this to finally happen,“ Harry says, breathing out a quiet laugh, “and you don’t know how bad I want it to happen again,“ he mutters, kissing Niall’s cheeks and nose again, “all the time, I want to kiss you, like, all the bloody time,” he laughs against Niall’s neck. It tickles, and Niall giggles, kissing inch of every skin he can reach from his position.

“Who says I’m letting you stop?” Niall whispers, right before Harry’s lips find him again, it’s slow and gentle, none of them are rushing it even if they both are so hungry for it.

Harry pulls back for a second, pecking his lips once, twice, thrice, and another time, before he falls on his back on the mattress. Niall whines a bit beside him, making him chuckle, Harry cuddles him back against his side, “the nurses are coming to steal you away from me in a bit, Ni,” Harry says, and Niall groans.

“Don’t let them,” he pouts, lifting himself up a bit, looking down at Harry, he’s sure both of them look like a mess, still sleepy and in an after-first-kiss haze. Breakfast be damned, if he could he’d stay copped up in his room all day, kissing Harry as many times and as often as he wants to, he definitely would.

Harry shakes his head fondly at him, stroking the side of his face and smiling when Niall leans into it, putting his hand on top of Harry’s, “just kiss me again,” he says before dropping down, almost on top of Harry, leaving him no other option but to comply. Not that he’d ever refuse.

They kiss again, and just like the moment their lips brushed together for the first time, it all magically feels like it had a long time coming.

 

+

His last session of chemo brings a bittersweet feeling that it’s not leaving Niall, no matter how much he wants it to. He wants it all to go away, to burn every test they keep taking, wants to break every needle, destroy the machines that never leave his side. He wants the hopeful smiles on the doctor’s faces to disappear. Because yeah _this is your last chemo session, Niall, you can go home tomorrow morning!_ is what Niall’s been hearing with overly jovial voices from everyone since he ate his breakfast in the morning. But every time, he only hears what those voices are not telling him, what they’re trying to mask with their fake smiles and their frustrating cheerfulness. Niall may be going home tomorrow morning. But he’s coming back two weeks after that.

He’s not finishing chemo for good. It’s just the first stage of the treatment. The first part of being back on chemo after being in remission for 3 years. He still has those fucking cancer cells all over his bones, they’re still eating away what’s left of the healthy boy he once was.

He considers the next few weeks as vacations. Because after all, he does have some things to look forward to. He can go out and meet up with his friends, he can invite Harry over to his house, sleep again in his bed, help his mum in the kitchen, he can wear his own clothes and get rid of the tacky hospital smell that makes him sick.

It’s all so bittersweet, he doesn’t find another word to describe it. Because there’s still plenty things he can’t do, hospital or home. He still has to take his meds, meaning he can’t have a pint. His limbs still cramp and ache, and he can’t invite Louis to a footie game together in his backyard. He gets tired easily and he sleeps too much, and he may be home, but he’s still sick, and Niall wishes he could go back to being fourteen and not worrying about how prone to fractures his bones are.

“He’s been grumpy the whole morning,” Niall hears Marty’s voice say from outside, “he leaves tomorrow morning, but remember you have to bring him back in two weeks, yeah? Now go inside, I’m sure you’re the only one who can stop Nialler from wallowing so much.”

Harry opens the door a minute after. He has a bag of Nandos take out in one of his hands, a ridiculously big coat in the other.

“Oh, hi, you’re awake!” he says, he looks happy and relaxed, it makes Niall’s stomach lurch painfully, why can’t he be happy for himself if everyone around him is? “I brought some food for you, figured we can stop with the hospital food a bit early, yeah?” he smiles big at Niall, letting his coat fall by Niall’s feet on the bed and taking a seat beside him, kissing him quick in the lips.

“Charmed the nurses into quitting the healthy eating, I see,” Niall tries to joke, but his voice sounds flat and it makes him wince.

Harry shrugs, opening the bag and inspecting if everything is still in place, “I’m sure you don’t want to eat right now, but I can charm a nurse again later to let you overheat it for lunch, yeah?”

Niall nods half-heartedly, looking away from Harry and up at the ceiling, fighting down a wave of nausea. Harry notices, of course, zipping up the bag and putting it far away from the bed, not wanting the smell to make Niall sick.

“You’re okay,” Harry says softly, grasping his hand in his warmer one.

Niall breathes through his nose slowly, opening his eyes when he settles down again. He doesn’t know why, but suddenly he feels the urge to tell Harry everything. Because he’s been here with Niall since those first weeks back in hospital and now until he’s about to finish his first round of chemo, and Niall hasn’t told him anything about his disease. He’s sure Harry knows. His mum must have told him, or one of the nurses. Maybe he even asked himself to one of his doctors on one of those dark, ugly days, when all Niall did was cry in pain, not letting Harry near him.

Now, he feels like he owns Harry an explanation, even if he’s not asking for it, because Harry would never, he’d stay his whole life waiting for Niall to be ready to fully open up to him, and Niall has to speak up, he’s let up too much time pass. Harry deserves to know, to hear it all coming from Niall’s mouth and no one else’s. It’s the right thing to do.

“It’s osteosarcoma.” Niall starts, still looking up at the white, boring ceiling. He doesn’t want to look at Harry while he tells him all of this, he feels vulnerable enough like this, he feels naked, spread wide open for the whole world to see, even if it’s just Harry and his gentle way of making him feel safe no matter how troubled all of his thoughts are.

Harry kisses his hand and hums, Niall takes it as a cue to continue, “I’m- well, it started when I was fifteen,” he swallows, “I was playing footie with my friends in school, and I just, I fell down, it wasn’t an epic, big fall I just, stumbled and fell on my left knee. And it’s so dumb, it sounds so dumb but, but it hurt a lot, you know? That year I had dislocated it a few times, but it was just that, right? And- but when I fell, it felt worst, it felt so wrong, I wouldn’t stop screaming until I passed out,” Niall lets out a shaky breath, Harry’s fingers are still stroking his hand and arm, it’s what’s keeping him grounded, “I woke up in hospital, not this one, though, I lived in Mullingar before, and, when I woke up I knew it wasn’t just a dislocated knee again, I knew it was far worse, because my mom wouldn’t stop crying, Haz, she just- she looked so scared and so devastated, I felt so bad for doing that to her.

They told me they’d found a mass in my knee joint, and they showed me the scans and all, for me, it just looked like I had a golf ball between my knee and my femur,” he says shuddering, Harry brings his chair closer to the bed, “I couldn’t believe it was cancer, you know? I was just fifteen, I kept asking if it was possible to get cancer from just falling to the ground while playing football.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes, “they explained how I’ve had that tumour growing inside me for a while now, and that it was making my bones fragile and thin, they couldn’t do much about it over there, so my mum searched for another hospital, she started in Dublin, but we ended up here.

“They started chemo a few weeks after, and, it was so hard, like, my body took it so bad, I wouldn’t stop puking, they had to sedate me more than a few times. And it was like that for two years. The last four months they tried with radiation rounds and then a few weeks of chemo, until I finally was in remission and I went back home.

“It came back early this year. I started feeling sore again, and going up and down the stairs at home began to tire me out so bad I passed out one morning, giving my mum a huge scare,” he opens his eyes again, and turns to his side, he sets his gaze in their interlocked hands, and he puts the other one in top of Harry’s. “When they told my mum the tumour was back and said that it was bigger this time, she didn’t even think before rushing me back here. It was so much worse this time, indeed. It, it wasn’t just a ball, it was like, taking part of my femur too, I mean, it was all over my knee, and it was in my bone, it was so scary,” Niall says, closing his eyes when Harry wipes away a tear that escaped his eye, “you came to visit me a bit after that,” he smiles, finally looking up at Harry’s face, “and you honestly have made it all so much easier to deal with.” He finishes, letting himself relax on the bed now that it’s all out, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

“And I’m staying right here,” Harry whispers, his voice scratchy. He sniffles, laughing wetly when Niall looks at him with concern, “I’m sorry, I’m just,”

“Haz, please don’t cry, no, no, stop it, come here,” Niall says, lifting up the sheets and patting at the space beside him. Harry doesn’t doubt before kicking off his boots and lying down next to Niall, pulling him as close as he can without jostling the hand with the needle.

“You’re gonna pull through this, you hear me? And I’ll be here, in every step of the way. And after that you’ll go with me, we’ll tour the world, with the lads, and you’ll be there, always,” Harry says, genuinely meaning every single word even if he’s choking with them.

Niall just squeezes Harry tighter, trying to calm him down, to let him know he’s still here and he’s not going anywhere.

 

+

 

The first week off the hospital, Niall spends it at home. Finding joy in simple things such as watching a movie in his own bed, inviting his mum to watch it with him and letting her fall asleep on his shoulder halfway through. He makes dinner and makes lunch, he goes shopping with his mum and grandma, even if they have to take sitting breaks every hour, because Niall gets tired and sore, but he continues anyway. He calls back home, to Ireland one of those days, and he talks with his dad for a good two hours until he falls asleep.

A phone call from Harry wakes him up a bit after ten the next morning. He takes two painkillers and calls him back before going down for breakfast.

It’s Saturday, and Niall feels like he hasn’t seen Harry in weeks, even if it’s been three days since they saw each other last, but he misses him, so he says yes to Harry’s invitation for tonight, feeling a little brave. Feeling alive.

It’s a small party at Liam’s friend house, celebrating the fact their fourth album is done and ready, Niall feels that rush of happiness run through his veins. Those five guys he used to see glued flat to his bedroom wall are his friends now, and they care about him as much as he cares for them.

So he goes, for the sake of doing something different, something nerve wracking, because a party was one of the firsts in his doctor’s _don’t_ list. But Niall doesn’t care. He knows he has to take it easy, but a party never killed nobody, said Harry, and Niall decides to listen to him. If cancer hasn’t killed Niall, a party won’t even tickle him.

He turns down every pint and every shot, and accepts with a huge grin and open arms Harry’s glasses of coke he keeps serving him every time Liam yells, “SHOTS!” at the crowd, which is incredibly often. Harry is just on the edge of tipsy and Niall is enjoying far too much teasing him about it.

“Come dance w’t me,” Harry mumbles in his neck a few hours later, Niall lost sense of time when they turned off the lights and the neon and flashing lights started moving to the rhythm of the blasting music. “We’ll dance all slow, yeah?”

“It’s not a slow song, Haz,” Niall chuckles, but he’s standing up already, letting Harry lead the way to an almost deserted part of the dance floor, which Niall is glad for. The painkillers are working alright so far, but he doesn’t want drunk people tripping over him.

“I’m so glad you came, I was starting to miss you,” Harry whispers, slightly biting his ear. Niall has his arms wrapped around Harry’s neck, his head resting against one of his arms and Harry leads the slow pace, with his hands grasping Niall’s small waist. They’re barely moving, not even lifting their feet off the floor, just swaying lazily while a way too upbeat song plays loudly in the background.

“You want to go home?” Harry asks at some point, “you look sleepy.”

“I am, just a bit, but if you want to stay I’ll just, grab a cab and-“

“Shh, don’t be like that. I’ll go tell Paul and the lads we’re leaving yeah?” Harry says, taking Niall by his hand and leading him to a small sofa, “you stay right here, I’ll be back in a second.”

 

They’re back to Niall’s house in a heartbeat, silent as they can be while climbing up the stairs. Niall gets a cramp midway through, and he bends down and whimpers.

“Niall? Hey, hey look at me. What’s wrong, love?” Harry says, helping Niall sit in one of the steps and he crouches down in front of him, trying to get him to breathe and stop biting his hand, “you’re alright Ni, it will be over soon.”

They wait another five minutes until Niall finally slumps down in Harry’s arms, still trembling slightly. “’t was just a cramp,” he whispers, “I’ve been having them often now, dunno why.”

Harry shakes his head sadly, trying to not let himself be negative about this. He just helps Niall to his feet, but before he’s able to take another step, Harry wraps his arms around Niall’s middle and carries him all the way to Niall’s bedroom, closing the door softly and putting Niall down in the centre of the bed carefully.

He drops himself down gently, making sure he’s straddling Niall’s hips without bumping his legs, and he looks down at Niall when he whispers a small “Haz,” he has a lazy and small smile on his face, “kiss me.”

It starts slow, but it turns a tad rougher the more Niall squeezes his hips. The noises Niall is making are sinful, and Harry knows for sure he’s not the only one half hard in his pants, if Niall’s incessant fidgeting and rutting is anything to go by.

They try not to rush it, really. But it’s hard, _they_ are hard, and it gets more difficult to ignore the more they keep desperately kissing and tugging at each other clothes.

Harry opens his eyes to look at Niall when he pulls back a second to breathe. The blonde has his eyes closed blissfully, his cheeks are pink, as Harry loves them being, his beanie is almost falling off his head. He looks sleepy, hazy at the edges, turned on in the most beautiful way, and Harry wants to ruin him. He wants to do all kind of things, he wants Niall to be louder, to have him all spread out under him. But a bigger part of him knows he can’t take this too far, that Niall is still in a vulnerable state, that as much as he wants Harry to do something, he’s trying hard to stay awake. The exhaustion is clear in the bags beneath his eyes, he’s whining quietly, desperate to get Harry’s shirt off of him. Harry wants that too, skin on skin, more than the sex, more than just coming, Harry just wants to be as close to Niall as he can be.

It doesn’t last long after they get rid of their clothes. Harry goes back on top of Niall as he restlessly bucks his hips against Harry’s stomach. Harry gets a hand around them both, and Niall arches up, toes curling and hands shaking, he’s muttering _yeah_ and _fuck, Haz, just like that_ as he twitches in Harry’s hand. When Niall grabs Harry’s forearms and starts fucking Harry’s fist, Harry knows he’s close. So he focuses on him, his biggest priority right now, and always, is Niall. He strokes the tip of Niall’s dick, thumb playing with his foreskin until Niall cries out and comes in the middle of a moan of his name. His right hand is grasping the sheets tightly and the other is still on Harry’s skin as he rides out his orgasm. He collapses down on the bed when the aftershocks leave him, opening his eyes and lowering his hand to reach out for Harry’s cock, he strokes him at the perfect pace, speeding up and then slowing down, and Harry comes shortly after, biting Niall’s shoulder to keep himself from screaming.

When he raises up the bed to clean them up, Niall’s eyes are small and red, he looks relaxed and happy and so, so tired, just a small step before falling asleep, like he’s waiting for Harry to come back to bed so he can close his eyes, but Harry’s not having any of it. He kneels on the side of the bed, and kisses Niall long and sweet until Niall lets him go. “Go to sleep, babe, I’ll just go to the bathroom quick and I’ll be back, but you close your eyes, I’m not leaving, okay?”

Niall nods, looking satisfied in more ways than one, and Harry kisses his forehead feeling the most content he’s felt in a while.

 

+

 

They arrive back at the hospital late at night, exactly two weeks since Niall’s last chemo. Niall didn’t let Harry out of bed that morning, even if Maura insisted that it was better if they went to the hospital early to get over with the tests sooner rather than later. Niall refused, though, stubbornly drowning out his mum’s words, and even Harry’s at some point. They gave up after lunch, when Niall was making plans of going to get ice cream and spend some time with the rest of the boys. They could see how hard he was trying to make all kind of plans to postpone as much as he could the drive back to hospital.

And they understood, quite bitterly, that Niall was going back to hospital, whether he wanted it or not, the last thing they could do for him was letting him decide when he wanted to climb into Harry’s car and go back.

It’s Marty who receives them, with a soft and knowing smile on her face. “Somehow, I knew you wouldn’t arrive early,” she says, giving Niall a squeeze and ruffling Harry’s hair, “your room is just how you left it, Nialler.”

It looks the same, his posters are still all hanging on the walls, the small sofa just how he left it close to the window. The roses Harry had brought some weeks ago still look pretty in the bedside table, as if Marty and the rest of the nurses had taken care of them, even when he was gone. Harry is holding three pillows in his arms, and he sets them up on Niall’s bed, knowing how he likes them, and spreads out the fluffy blanket his mum gave him.

It’s all so damn bittersweet.

“I know it’s not even eleven, but it’s better if you go to sleep. You have an MRI scan at seven tomorrow morning, and an appointment with your doctor to talk about what comes next. It will be a long day, have some rest, honey.” Marty says, she rubs his back before leaving the room.

Niall nods, numbly, not noticing he’s still nodding his head even if Marty already left. “Hey,” Harry says, taking his shaking hands in his bigger ones, “let’s lie down for a bit, yeah? We brought so many movies. Which one do you want to watch first?”

“Harry,” he raises his head to look at him, feeling himself crumble the more he looks at his surroundings, “Haz, I- I hate this place.”

Harry’s breath catches in his throat when he looks down at Niall. Looking small and lost in his big sweatshirt and loose jeans, he shakes his head at him, kissing his forehead, not knowing what to say.

He just leads Niall to the bed, helps him take off his shoes when Niall’s fingers shake too bad to unlace them himself. They settle down in the small bed, Harry makes sure Niall is all tucked up and warm in the nest of blankets and waits for him to fall asleep while he mutters loving and mindless words close to his ear. There’s something gnawing relentlessly in his mind, an empty feeling in his stomach that he doesn’t like. It feels like he’s trying to swallow down a rock. Like something wrong is going to happen.

He glances down at Niall, restrains himself from moving too much, in fear of waking him up. The fleeting urge to cry drifts away when he looks at Niall's calm expression as he sleeps. He closes his eyes, trying to convince himself that nothing is wrong, that Niall is safe.

 

+

 

“After looking at your latest MRI scan, Niall, me and some colleagues analysed your case deeply,” Niall's oncologist, Doctor Johnson says, he’s not looking up at where Niall’s sitting in front of him. He keeps his gaze down on a mess of papers and scans, his frowning makes him look way older than he is. And he keeps moving from paper to paper, not making eye contact with him or his mum. Niall has never been so scared, “we discussed it, Niall, and I’m afraid to say this, but your last chemo round did not show positive results.”

He lifts his head then, crossing his hands in front of him, his lips set on a straight line, “your tumour is spreading, not only through the area, but it’s getting potentially dangerous for it to reach other organs.”

“What- what does that mean- is, are you talking about metastasis? Didn’t you say chemo would avoid that from ever happening?!” Maura asks from beside him, Niall looks down, taking his mum’s hand in his and smiling weakly at her.

“Mrs Horan, Niall’s osteosarcoma started in his knee joint, which we removed successfully three years ago, however, we told you this time, when Niall came back almost four months ago, that it was bigger, part of his femur and upper tibia are compromised. Chemo has helped at keeping the cancer cells there, there’s no metastasis, not yet, but the cells are not dying. And the more we wait, the harder it will be to stop it from reaching his lungs or liver.”

“I don’t understand!” Maura hisses, “Where are you going with this?”

“Niall’s cancer is in the most invasive stage right now. It’s spreading through the tissues and muscles on Niall’s leg. And as Niall tells me, the cramps have been increasing, which means is already affecting the nerves near his bone. It’s only a matter of time until it reaches his arteries and spreads through prone organs, such like his lungs.”

“You’re still not telling us anything we don’t know already!” Maura more or less yells at the doctor. Niall his shrinking in his seat. Staying silent and wishing his legs worked properly so he could run out of the room and into Harry’s arms. Harry, who’s waiting for him outside, who should be here with him holding his hands as he breaks from inside out, quite literally.

“He needs stronger treatment.” The doctor cuts Maura off in a harsh tone, Niall wants to stand up for himself, more so for his mum. But he feels dizzy and shaky even if he’s only sitting down, he hopes holding his mum’s hand is enough for her. “Chemo therapy along with radiation. It’s going to be hard, I can’t lie to you, Niall.” Niall swallows hard, feeling stiff and faint, he manages a nod, “we’ll try it for two weeks, it should show results by that time, if it doesn’t, Niall, we already talked about the option that would help you most.”

Maura squeezes his hand tightly, rubbing his thigh with the other. Amputation is a big and scary word. Niall has never put it on his lips. He’s denied it since he was sixteen, lying in what he thought was his death bed. There’s a heavy feeling sinking deep within him, he knows this time is different, this time he has a quarter of a chance to make it with his leg complete, and it’s such a terrifying and imminent prognosis that it makes him feel trapped, small and cold.

“Niall?”

“No,” he states, his voice shaking, “I- I’ll try the treatment, the radiation and the chemo, I don’t- anything else.” He stutters, Maura leans in to kiss his temple and Niall huddles in her embrace, acutely aware that as soon as he signs those papers, there’s no turning back.

 

+

 

Niall gets weaker after the treatment starts a few days after. Eating is harder now, breathing is harder now. He’s constantly hooked up to a breathing tube, a cannula with him at all times. There are no good days and bad days. The next two weeks are a constant of rain, tears and grief. He’s always aching, sore to the touch, and it doesn’t get better.

The nurses still try to get him out bed, to move his limbs to help the numbness he feels sometimes. He tries, he really does, with a nurse by his side and Harry at the other, he takes a breath, trying to pull himself together and hide every wince and every whimper. He just needs to take a few steps to reach the door and then they'll let him lie down again. But he can't. As simple as that. Every time he puts weight on his leg it feels like he's about to fall apart, like he'll break in a million tiny pieces and no one will ever be able to fix it.

It's tearing Harry apart, to watch Niall try so hard to take a few steps. The nurse shakes his head at him when Niall cries out as a cramp hits him. "I think you should sit down, Niall," she says. Not masking the pity in her voice. Tears sting in Niall's eyes but he forces them down, refusing to cry over shame. He swallows, and it tastes like failure. His mouth tastes bitter, and this time he wishes it was because of his pills.

 

Harry goes down to the first floor of the hospital, every time he can, to the small and always silent chapel. It’s not something he did often before he met Niall, before he so desperately wanted Niall to survive this more than anything, more than any award, any recognition, he wants Niall safe. He sees people there all the time, the chapel is never empty. There are people crying, praying for their loved ones, and Harry hurts for them too, so he prays, like his mum taught him to when he was six years old, he kneels and prays, for Niall and for his family, for everything that hurts, for himself, because God help him if anything ever happens to Niall.

 

+

 

When the results come the morning after the two weeks of treatment are up, Harry is already awake, it’s six sharp in the morning, and Maura is restlessly sleeping with her head in Niall’s bed. Niall is asleep, too, and it pains Harry to wake them both up.

They go to Niall’s oncologist office, Niall in a wheelchair and Maura close beside him, this time they let Harry in, and he’s at Niall’s other side, both of them holding Niall’s hands as the doctor opens his mouth, only to bring them bad news.

“Mrs Horan, Mr Styles,” Dr Johnson nods at them, “Niall, it’s a shame to tell you this, but the treatment showed very feeble results. The cells count is smaller, but the area of the tumour is bigger, and I’m afraid, Niall, that if you want to get old with your mam and your boy, the amputation is the only way to get you to live a good and long life.”

Niall starts shaking his head, it’s a small, almost unnoticeable movement, but Harry sees it, he turns to look at Niall and squeezes his neck, Niall turns to look at him, he’s eyes vacant but desperate in a way that’s killing Harry.

“Get me out of here,” he whispers.

“Niall-“

“Please. I don’t want to hear it, just take me out, let me go home.” He cries, clutching tightly at the wheels of his chair, whishing he was strong enough to push himself out of the room and just leave. Leave it all behind.

“Niall we need to discuss-“

“No. No we don’t need to do anything! I’m dying. You just straight off told me that. What else is there to say? Let me go.”

“The amputation is a good option, if you could just consider it for a mome-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he says, holding back angry tears, “Harry. Haz, please take me out.”

Harry silently wheels Niall out of the room.

 

+

 

“I want to play football,” Niall sobs into Harry’s chest, they’re back in his room, back in Niall’s hospital bed, which feels bigger every passing day, or maybe Niall just keeps getting tinier. “I want to play football. And I want to sing in arenas and stadiums. I want to study, I want to go to uni and travel the world, I want to live, Harry.”

There’s no way to calm Niall down. Harry has tried since they left the doctor’s office. Niall just cried. He cried in pain when Harry swooped him in his arms and settled him down in the bed, and he cried when Harry kissed him softly, cried when Harry asked him what he could do, how he could help.

“You will, Ni. I know you will.” Harry mutters against Niall’s beanie as he holds him close.

Niall falls in a fitful sleep a few minutes after, clutching tight at Harry’s shirt and making little whimpering noises against Harry’s skin.

Maura comes into the room almost an hour later, her cheeks are pale and her eyes red. Harry would go over and hug her if Niall wasn’t asleep in his arms.

“I was still talking to Doctor Johnson,” she starts, “he was explaining all this amputation thing.” She swallows, sitting in the sofa next to Niall’s bed and kissing his exposed, bony shoulder gently.

“What did he say? Why is Niall so against it?” Harry asks whispering.

“It’s a good option. The best Niall has. Niall’s cancer has reached his nerves and blood vessels, there’s no way they can save him with his limb still there. They’d- it’s a mid-thigh operation. And Niall could use a prosthetic leg afterwards, it’s all a matter of a last couple of radiations to get rid completely of the cancer cells, and then physiotherapy for recovery. He’d be cancer free.” Maura sniffles, “He’s so scared, my boy. He- He thinks amputation means being crippled his whole life. He thinks he’d be dependant of someone, always, and it’s not like that. But he’s so stubborn, and his dreams are so big.” Maura cries into her hands.

“Yeah, he was telling me about performing in stadiums and playing football, travelling the world.” Harry smiles sadly at her.

“He’s a strong champ. I don’t want to lose him. Knowing there’s a way to keep him with us, to save him- I can’t lose him.” Maura says.

“We can convince him, Maura.” Harry says, reaching out his hand carefully to touch her shoulder without jostling Niall, “he can live a normal and healthy life if he went through the operation. We have to show him the positive side of things. He’s a bit hopeless at the moment, and he needs time, but we can get him to agree, he needs to agree.” Harry gulps, his sight blurring as he looks down at Niall, “he can’t give up so easily, we won’t let him.”

 

+

 

Harry doesn’t sleep that night. He calls the boys, to let them know about Niall’s condition and asks them to keep Niall and Maura some company for tomorrow. He needs to do some research, needs to make a few phone calls and sort it all out to get his plan going. They agree, of course. They arrive early in the morning, when Niall is still asleep and Maura is down for breakfast. Harry leaves knowing they’re in good hands.

 

+

 

He starts up by searching for the best physiotherapist. He already had a few that Marty had recommended him, and he decides to go for a well-recognized therapist in Denver who works with kids and teens who’d been amputated. Harry explains Niall’s situation to him, and even though he says he’d have to examine Niall before setting up a rehabilitation plan, he agrees to help. Harry finds it quite impressive, that Niall hasn’t even agreed to the surgery, yet Harry already has a whole plan for Niall’s recovery.

Then, he searches through thick and thin for a sports foundation that works with kids with special needs. It’s not too hard, actually, because with One Direction, he’s gone and visited a bunch of them, but they give him the most amazing news when he calls an old friend that works at a fundraising charity event at Rays of Sunshine, who tells him there’s a Derby organization that works rehabilitating people with some kind of physical disability, they help them getting back their abilities and their confidence by playing their favourite sport; football.

He finds a tutor for Niall. An old and kind man who teaches a music program at a prestigious Irish university. He gives personalized classes, and he’s up to go wherever Niall is, which fits just right to the last and easiest wish of Niall’s, travelling the world. It becomes a reality after two or three phone calls and after making sure there’s enough space to add another bunk to their tour bus.

He prints it all and puts all the information on a small brown folder. Feeling positive that even if Niall is not ready to do most of these things, it will be enough for him to know that with two legs or just one, his life is an open road, waiting for him to take the last step and say yes to the operation that will give him his life back.

+

 

He goes back to the hospital the next morning to find his three boys scattered on the floor sleeping, each one with one blanket that looks familiar to Niall’s, Maura is not in the room, and Niall is awake, supporting himself on his elbows as he tries to stay as still as possible to take a picture of Zayn, Louis and Liam looking like sleeping puppies on the floor beside his bed.

He smiles up at Harry, and he looks more relaxed than Harry has seen him in days, it seems like being surrounded with the boys’ endless energy did Niall some good, his eyes look brighter, his smile actually reaches his eyes, and Harry wants to jump on the bed to kiss him finally. He gets there slowly, carefully watching where he puts his feet without stepping in anyone’s face. Niall is waiting for him, sitting in his bed, making grabby hands at him, and they eagerly kiss when Harry gets rid of his shoes and throws them off, hoping they don’t fall on anyone’s balls.

“Where did you go yesterday? I missed you,” Niall pouts when they pull back.

Harry chuckles fondly, “I was preparing a surprise. But I’m sure these three morons kept you entertained, didn’t they?”

“They tried, yeah,” Niall smiles playfully at him, and _God,_ Harry didn’t know how much he missed Niall’s smile until then. “It was like a circus here yesterday. The nurses wanted to throw them out.”

Harry laughs. He can picture that easily.

“You were talking about a surprise?” Niall asks, wiggling his eyebrows at him and laughing softly. He’s still pale and tiny and his eyes shouldn’t look so dull. But he’s awake and joking around, just like he used to before he was told all the bad news. Harry is so ready to show him everything he did yesterday.

“Open this up for me, and read it all. Don’t say anything until you’ve read everything. Okay?”

Niall opens his eyes wide at him, looking apprehensive at Harry’s enthusiasm. “What are you on about?” he asks, fidgeting until he’s leaning against Harry’s chest.

Harry shifts until he’s against the headboard, carefully moving Niall with him. He has a moment of panic right before Niall opens the folder. He wonders if he should have woken up the boys and ushered them out the room, in case Niall took this the wrong way, in case he got mad at Harry for trying to decide his life for him. Just in case Niall didn’t want anyone else mentioning him the operation.

He looks away as Niall reads the first page, the one with all the information of the physiotherapist and his consent to work with Niall all through his recovery. Niall’s face is black as he reads, “Harry, I don’t-“

“Just read everything. I promise is worth it, at least give me a chance. If you don’t like any of this after you’re done reading, okay. It’s over. I won’t push the topic further. But let me try. Just keep reading, please.”

Niall does as Harry says. He finishes the first page and his eyes wide comically when he starts reading about the Derby foundation. He starts blushing as he keeps reading, fingers shaking as he reads page after page. His eyes are filled to the brim with tears when he reaches the last page and it’s a pic of One Direction’s tour bus, with Harry’s scrawny handwriting _would you like to join us in our touring shenanigans? =)_

“Harry, what, what did you do?” Niall asks, his voice trembling. Harry’s hope sinks and floats away, leaving a feeling of dread all over his body. Niall is reading bits of every page again, a hand coming to cover his mouth when a sob threatens to escape.

Harry is about to apologize. To mumble out a million and one apologies and then run out of the room, out of the country, if possible. But Niall just turns to him, his eyes teary and his cheeks wonderfully red, he kneads his fingers through Harry’s hair and kisses him with all he’s got. It’s rough and desperate, every movement is fast paced, and Harry is so, so damn confused.

Niall pulls away, knocking his forehead against Harry’s chin and breathing heavily. Harry comes back to his senses, he strokes Niall’s face, slowly lifting it to look at him properly. “What does this mean, Ni? I don’t- Are you, fuck. Are you angry? Did I do the wrong thing?” Harry asks, stumbling with every word. Niall shakes his head at him, a grin spreading slowly through his face.

“Are you mad? Haz, how could this ever be wrong? You- You’re the most fantastic, crazy person I’ve seen. This is- this is too much, but it’s, it means everything, God, Harry thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?” Harry sighs out, part of him feeling relieved, the other still lost.

“For making me realize all that I’d be wasting if I said no to the surgery.” Niall rasps out against his neck. “All of those things are fucking wicked. It’s unbelievable. I don’t think it has sunk in just yet.” Niall breaths out, “but one thing I do know, is that I’m not willing to lose you.”

“Is this a yes?” Harry breathlessly asks, holding Niall by his waist tightly.

“Yes. Yes, you big dummy. If you’re asking me if I’m up for all these things you’ve already planned out for me, it’s a yes. If you’re asking if I agree to the amputation,” Niall swallows hard, it’s the first time he voices that word out loud. It’s been in his nightmares and in his biggest fears for years. And now it’s out there, it’s basically a reality. And it doesn’t scare him as much as he thought it would. “It’s a yes, too.”

Harry doesn’t hold back the happy tears that flow freely down his cheeks. He kisses Niall once, and twice, and again and again. Until they’re both crying and laughing and it’s all a mess, but they’ve never felt as joined together before.

It’s all forgotten for the time they spend kissing. They’re unaware of the three very awake boys with teary smiles on their faces still on the floor. Oblivious about Maura, who’s just outside the door with the biggest smile on her face, as she cries softly, sending the biggest thanks to whoever up there who listened to her pleas.

When they pull away, Harry smiles cheekily at Niall, pecking his lips once more and wiping Niall’s cheeks with his thumb, “so, if I asked you to marry me right now, would I get a yes too?”

Niall laughs, loud and joyful, shaking his head fondly at Harry, “don’t push your luck, Harry Styles.”

Harry laughs right back at him, they keeps kissing, never getting enough, never close enough, “I love you, Ni.” Harry whispers against Niall’s lips. Niall says it right back, lips brushing against Harry’s with every word he says.

“I love you, Haz. You’re the best thing that could ever happen to me.”

 

 

Niall loses his left leg a few days after, but everything gets better afterwards.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weeeeell, hi! here i am, with the last part of this "small" fic, many days too late... im sorry it took me so long to post this final part, uni always got in the way.
> 
> i hope, from the bottom of my heart, that you've enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it. every comment and all the kudos and bookmarks made me incredibly happy, and i send a huge massive thank you for the ones who read it all and stuck with me through the bumpy ride :)
> 
> please, tell me what you think, of this chapter, of the whole story, of certain thing that stood out for you, every comment is so sooo appreciated, thank you so much<3
> 
> AGAIN! i shall say it's better if you check the warnings I gave on the first chapter, niall deals with a lot during this chapter, so yeah... also, sorry if there's any grammar mistake. I have the terrible habit of posting fics after 2am when my brain doesn't help proof reading it. i will read it again tomorrow and fix whatever needs to be fixed, but for now, this is it! enjoy<3

Niall wakes up around midnight, twelve and half hours since the surgery was finished. His eyes open slowly, fraction by fraction until Harry can see the breath taking blue of his eyes. They look red, blurry and far away, but here they are, looking more confused than anything, but it’s better than the sheer panic that filled them just a few hours prior when Niall was taken to surgery and far, far away from Harry for a good seven hours.

Now he’s there. And Harry’s holding and caressing Niall’s hand as the blonde slowly comes back to himself. He’s pale and his nose is a bit cold to the touch, but the nurses assured him that everything seemed normal and stable.

“Hey you,” Harry whispers, he got warned about headaches because of the strong meds, “welcome back. Are you awake?”

A whimper comes out from the back of Niall’s throat, he squeezes Harry’s hand. His knuckles turn white but Harry can barely feel pressure. “Haz-“

“Shh, I’ll bring you some water, yeah? Is that okay?” Harry says softly after Niall tries to clear his throat and ends up having a coughing fit. It sounds painful, Harry’s about to leap out from his chair to call a nurse when Niall starts shaking his head urgently. “Okay. Okay, do you want me to stay?”

Niall nods at that, closing his eyes but not letting Harry’s hand out of his weak grasp. “Where’s mum?” he mumbles.

“She’s getting some tea,” Harry replies, “she’ll be right back, do you want to see her?”

Niall stays quiet for a few minutes. He looks exhausted, the frown is not leaving his face. “’m sleepy but- I want… mum.”

“Go back to sleep, Ni. It’s alright, I swear she’ll be right here when you wake up again, yeah? Just sleep a bit more, you’ll feel better.”

“Don’t leave.” Niall whispers before letting his eyes fall shut once again. He’s asleep within seconds.

 

-

 

“Do you feel this Mr Horan?” Dr Johnson asks from where he’s checking up Niall’s leg, he’s testing if the nerves near Niall’s lower femur are still sensible. Niall nods and mutters a small _yes_ every few minutes. “Everything seems to be normal.” The doctor says, looking at Maura first, then down at Niall, “I advise you rest for about two weeks, let it all heal, but meanwhile we can send the orthopaedist to start on your prostheses, just so it can be ready by the time you’re bound to start PT.” Johnson says with a sense of finality, leaving Niall no chance but nod numbly.

He feels tense in Harry’s arms, not quite relaxing against his embrace and it’s really bothering Harry. Niall’s been silent since he woke up once again a few hours after the first time. He has ignored all kind of question about how he’s really feeling, no matter who asks (it could be his mum or Harry, asking as gently and smooth as they can if he’s feeling alright. Or it could be a nurse, asking with no real interest and only looking at the charts and machines beside Niall’s bed), but Niall always answers the same with a shrug; _It doesn’t hurt._

Harry wants to throw a fit. He wants to snap Niall out of the mental haze he seems to be in. There’s a gnawing in his chest, a creeping ache that’s fumbling inside his heart and doesn’t let him fully relax.

“Well, if you don’t have any question, Niall, I’m heading out. We probably won’t see each other again,” Dr Johnson manages to smile at Niall, “it was a pleasure to meet you and get you in your way back to recovery, cancer free.”

Niall shudders in Harry’s arms.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. But please, crack a smile, boy. As soon as you recover from surgery you won’t need to see me, your old and cranky oncologist. Unless of course you want to come back for a small visit.” The doctor continues, Harry thinks seeing him smiling so much it’s kind of uncomfortable, but Maura is smiling kindly at him, the nurses look amused. Niall looks plain scared, and Harry doesn’t understand _why._

“Well, I’ll let you be. Have the greatest life, Niall. You’re in good hands. After you leave this hospital, things will only get better for you.” He exists the room short after, with the two nurses trailing after him.

“What a strange man,” Maura says when the door closes once again, “thought he didn’t have a soft bone in him, but he got me all teary, goodness!” she laughs wetly, reaching for a tissue inside her purse. She looks happy, lighter than Harry has ever seen her since they met. “I’ll be back in a few, alright? Need to call your dad and your brother to update them on your health, Niall.”

She kisses Niall’s forehead lovingly and squeezes Harry’s hand, smiling sadly at him when Niall rolls on his side, his back to Harry and his mum.

“Give him a bit of time,” she whispers in his ear, “he’ll get there, be patient for a little bit more.”

 

-

 

“I’m missing a leg,” it’s how Niall wakes him up the next morning. They’re now in a different room, smaller and with no windows. But they’re finally out of the cancer floor, out of the emergency ward, and Harry saw how calmer Niall looked the farther they got from that haunting place.

“I’m missing a leg. I don’t have a leg.” Niall’s voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, and Harry sits up as fast as he would if the bed was on fire.

“Niall, hey, Ni, look at me,” Harry begs, his voice is raspy just like any other morning, but now it’s laced with concern and desperation, Niall isn’t looking at him.

“I’m- I have half of my left leg, Harry.” Niall whispers brokenly. Harry thinks this is the most Niall has talked since he got out of surgery two days ago. “Two days ago I was dying and now I’m okay. But I don’t, I don’t have a leg.” Niall continues, his eyes are set on the ceiling above them, and he’s as still as Harry has ever seen him. There’s something scary about Niall right now, and Harry figures it’s probably the fact that he doesn’t understand. Harry can’t read Niall right now. His body is tense and rigid on the bed but he looks comfortable. There’s a storm raging in his eyes, like he’s dealing with fear, pain, happiness and anxiety all at once. Harry doesn’t know how to help, doesn’t know if Niall needs help or if he just needs to stay silent and let Niall talk, cry, yell, laugh, whatever he’s up to do.

“I’m so scared, Haz,” Niall says, a stray tear rolls down from his eye and down his neck, disappearing once it reaches his collarbones, “I’m- I have,” he swallows hard and winces, “I’ll have a metallic leg for the rest of my life. I’m not- I’m not complete?” the last bit comes out as a question, and when Niall doesn’t continue, Harry takes it as his cue to speak.

“Of course you are complete, Ni. You are. They didn’t take out your talents or your feelings, your dreams or your qualities. They took away the cancer. It’s gone-“

“But so is my leg!-”

“-And you’re still Niall,” Harry speaks over Niall, “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I can assure you, nothing is incomplete.” Harry says, taking Niall’s chin in his fingers and making Niall look up at him, “it’s sunny outside, your birthday is in a month, you’re cancer free, it’s time for breakfast and I’m, I’m in love with you.” Harry whispers the last part against Niall’s lips, “With two legs or just one, I love you. Theo still thinks you’re a superhero, the boys still think you have a great voice and your mom and dad are so proud of you. You could have eight legs or be half a robot and none of that would ever change.”

Niall’s tears are sliding down Harry’s fingers, his small fingers are on top of Harry’s, and he looks so, so drained Harry wants to kiss away every worry that is pestering Niall’s mood.

“I’m sorry,” Niall starts, “I’m sorry I kinda shut you out after the surgery. I’m sorry I’ve been such a twat since I woke up. I’m so, so sorry.” Niall shakes his head, taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be, Ni.” Harry smiles small at him, “a lot has happened in the last week, you can’t just wake up from surgery and be yourself again. You’ve gone through a lot, and though I do admit it’d have been just a little bit easier if you had let me in, you’re here right now, talking to me, and I want you to tell me what had you so caught up in yourself so we can leave it behind and move forward, okay?”

Niall nods, putting a bit of space between them so he can wipe his face. He settles down against Harry once he’s done, his back is pressed to Harry’s chest and he interlocks his fingers with Harry’s when Harry hugs his small waist.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Niall starts, “I’ve- I’ve thought what you’d see as the most ridiculous things, just don’t laugh.” Harry just nuzzles in the juncture between Niall’s neck and shoulder and mumbles _I would never_ as he kisses softly Niall’s skin.

 “I- I’m scared, Haz. I mean, it’s my leg. It’s a _leg_ , I scored my first goal with that leg. I’m a leftie and I lost my left leg,” Niall says, “it makes me feel so dumb but, it’s so ugly, it looks so ugly. I saw the scar yesterday in the bathroom, Haz, it looks terrible. And I don’t want you to see it, but I’m more scared about you not wanting to see it, about you not wanting to see _me_ anymore, because it must look strange. I bet I look so weird without that part of my leg, and it’s not pretty, and I don’t want you to see me how I’m seeing myself right now.” Niall breathes harshly through his nose, pausing to get his heartbeat back to normal before a nurse comes to bother them. Niall’s speech is all over the place, and Harry wants to stop him every two seconds to say _please, I love you, you’re beautiful_ but he knows better.

“It’s so stressful to take it all in. Because on one side I know I should be happy, I should be thankful I got rid of cancer but I can’t let myself relax, Harry, it’s like, there’s a part of me that’s not letting me get my hopes up. I keep imagining what happens if it comes back, if it’s in another part of my body and they have to amputate it too and then losing my leg would be pointless when I could have just died in one piece-“

“Niall-“

“-I know it’s wrong to think like that. I’m now part of that percentage of the world that has survived cancer but there’s no way to know if I’ll be good until I’m crinkly and old or if it will come back in a year, and I can’t let you go through that again Haz, you don’t deserve that.” Niall chokes on a sob, “There are so many things I can’t give you and it’s not fair for you to stay with me when I will be such a bother, because I will be so dependent on you and I’m putting too much on your plate. You’ve already done so much and I’ve only been sick and-“

“Stop, Niall, please stop, stop.” Harry interrupts when he can’t take it anymore. Niall has too much in his head and he’s just word vomiting at Harry all kind of crazy thoughts that have no truth behind them, “Ni, I want you to know that I knew what I was getting myself into when all of this started. I knew you were sick, very badly so, and I knew you could die, and I knew I was too far gone for you to care if you brought pain to my life. You gave me something I’ve never felt before, you’ve made me feel loved and you’ve given me normalcy even though this is not a normal situation. I told you before and I’ll repeat it a hundred and one times more, you could have three legs and six eyes and I’d still stay. I’ll love you, and a nasty scar or a prosthetic leg is not getting in the middle, it would never be a hassle to be with you in every step of your recovery, Ni, if I thought you’d be a bother I wouldn’t even be here.” Harry stops to brush away Niall’s tears, “I’m here, and I will be here in a year and in fifty years and for whatever amount of time you’re willing to have me.

You can’t stress over the illness coming back, Ni, you can’t put that weight on your shoulders. If it comes back, which is very, very unlikely, then we’ll fight it once again, we’ll cross the bridge if we ever get to it. But right now? Niall, right now you’re healthy. You’re in recovery but there’s no cancer. You’re alright, and you will always be. We’ll live day by day, there’s no point in worrying about how uncertain and scary the future can be. I have you here with me right now,” Harry swallows thickly, “I didn’t lost you. And I’m not letting yourself get lost in the muddle of thoughts that are messing with you.” Harry says, Niall has turned around somewhere along the way and he has he’s face pressed to Harry’s chest now. They’re both crying, both needing it more than ever, “everything you’re feeling, everything you’ve thought it’s valid, Ni. Don’t ever feel dumb for whatever you are feeling. It doesn’t mean you’re always right, but I’ll be here to get you out of your head and open your eyes if you let me.”

Niall nods against his chest, he looks up at Harry with rosy, wet cheeks and bright, so, so bright blue eyes. “I love you, Haz. I’m sorry, I was so damn wrong,” he chuckles wetly, “you’re like, a freaking angel, you’re my absolute everything. There’s no one as understanding and as respectful and as wonderful as you.” Niall says, his cheeks are lighting up in the cutest blush and Harry can feel weeks of worry and stress rolling off his body. They’ve said everything that needed to be said, everything they had to get rid of and everything they had to let out, and Niall’s smile gets blinding and lively the more he looks up at Harry. He’s weightless in Harry’s arms, so different from the distant and stiff Niall that Harry didn’t recognize just a few hours ago.

They haven’t properly kissed since Niall was about to go into surgery, and right now seems like a good time to do so.

 

-

 

Niall’s prosthesis arrives just three days before he gets discharged. He’s been going up to the cancer floor and back to his room every day, all because of the endless list of tests that are _strictly necessary_ according to every nurse he has asked to. It’s a priority to check, and check, and check once again, if there’s any residual cancer cells around his body, now that the main source of the malign cells has been removed is a good time to end with any small and lonely cell that could be swimming around his bloodstream. It’s scary and unnerving, but since Niall and Harry’s talk, Niall is taking it all better, he greets everyone with a smile and starts small talk with the nice, young and new nurses that try to flirt with him until Harry clears his throat beside him. It makes Niall laugh every time Harry makes the pout he’s been calling _the jealous pout_ lately. Niall tells him he looks constipated.

Now, three days before he’s able to go back home and leave the hospital for good and he receives the results of the last test of (he hopes) his life.

It’s negative for osteosarcoma. Harry weeps a little in Niall’s shoulder and Niall shushes him, encouraging him to breathe, reassuring him that they’re fine. It’s over. Niall is _cancer free._ Scientifically proven. They’re good to go right now if they want, but Niall agreed to stay the next three days so the physio team can help him with the basics of his new companion.

When Harry composes himself, they go back to the room, Harry ‘drives’ Niall’s wheelchair making ridiculous motor noises that have security calling them out more than a few times until they reach the room.

That’s when Niall faces one of his bigger fears.

The prosthesis is in the small sofa, wrapped in bubble wrap, but he can distinguish the shape. A shiver goes up his spine and he can feel all the colour draining from his face. Harry carries him to the bed, they both sit on the edge, watching carefully at the lump in the sofa as if it could jump at them and attack them at any minute.

Marty comes two minutes after, telling Niall to sit against the headboard and take off his pants so she can teach him how to put it on, how to take it off. What to move when he wants to bend it so he can sit down and how to keep it upright when he wants to walk.

Niall panics when he’s just about to take off his pants. Harry hasn’t seen the scar, not even a glimpse of it, not even when he sucked Niall off the other night, Niall refused to get his pants lower, and Harry kept them in the middle of his thighs.

Now, though, there’s no escaping out of this one, he slowly discards his sweats and throws them to the end of the bed. He glances at Harry swiftly when his scar is in the open, right there for all of them to see, the younger boy doesn’t cringe, he doesn’t throw up nor runs out of the room in disgust how Niall imagined it once. He sits close to Niall, attentive and wide green eyes looking up at Marty and down at Niall’s leg as she explains step by step, kindly and sweetly to the two of them how everything works.

It’s not complicated at all, and Niall feels like the weight of an elephant inside a huge building has been taken off his shoulders. Harry kisses him when Marty leaves, hard but slow, and Niall feels a contentment he hasn’t felt in years.

 

-

 

When Niall takes his first steps using his prosthesis leg it feels like he’s learning how to walk all over again. Though he doesn’t remember how it was to learn how to walk when he was a year old, he’s pretty sure it felt close to this. His mum is holding his right hand and Harry is two steps in front of him with one hand closed tightly in his and another in Niall’s waist. Little Theo is in Denise’s arms at the end of the small corridor, and Niall’s goal is to get there without falling.

He’s unstable at first, he feels like if he steps on the prosthesis it will break in two and he will fall face first to the floor, but the nurse behind him is quick to remind him that the prosthesis is probably stronger than Niall, and while Niall finds it quite offensive when Harry laughs along with the nurse, it gives him more than enough confidence to take the first step.

He doesn’t fall.

He counts that a small success and takes another. Then another three. Harry is smiling wide and wickledly at him, his mum looks proud, the crinkles by her eyes not making her look older, it makes her smile looks brighter. Niall takes another two steps and he falters in the middle of the third one, he loses his balance for a second, and Harry’s grasp, which was getting looser the more Niall walked, tightens once again.

Now he knows he can compare this, not to learning how to walk, but it reminds him of that time when he was almost six and he insisted and insisted until his Da let him touch Greg’s old bicycle and taught him how to ride it.

“Your muscles are still a bit weak from disuse, Mr Horan,” the nurse’s voice brings him back to the present, “that’s what your physiotherapy will be for, but you’re doing really well. If you feel like finishing until the end of the corridor, you can, but if not, just sit down and take a rest.”

Niall looks forward to where Theo is distractedly licking at his fingers, kicking his little legs in Denise’s lap. There are not more than five steps left, and Niall takes them with a determination that leaves everyone in the room quite surprised.

“Hi little buddy,” Niall coos when he’s right in front of Theo, he grabs his sticky fingers and the baby looks up at him. He laughs loudly when he sees his uncle Niall smiling down at him and Denise whispers something in his ear that Niall can’t catch.

Theo starts clapping after that, he makes this adorable noises that go through Niall’s whole heart. Denise is chanting a high pitched _yes Theo, tell your uncle Niall how proud you are_ and before Niall’s eyes get too misty to hide it, he presses loud raspberry kisses all over Theo’s face.

Niall sits back down a few minutes after Theo gets distracted with his toys and gets tired of clutching Niall’s nose in his tiny fingers. Harry sits beside him and strokes his back when Niall’s gaze sets on the metal that sticks out of his shorts and falls silent.

“I’m so proud of you,” Harry says softly, “you’re rocking your outfit, Nialler.”

Niall laughs, throws his head back and ends up chuckling with his face nuzzled in Harry’s neck.

He’ll be alright.

 

-

 

They get to Mullingar a few days later, it’s rainy and cold and Maura and Harry have Niall wrapped up in scarves and coats and layers and layers of warm clothes. His immune system is still kind of weak, Harry also enjoys just being over protective. The walk from Greg’s car to the front door of their house is not quite short, the pavement is muddy and slippery, it makes Niall move forward painfully slow. He has a pair of crutches now, meant to use them until he’s used to his prosthesis and until his muscles regain its strength.

Harry is close to his side, holding a huge umbrella and clutching Niall’s jacket to help him a bit. And that, that’s something Niall appreciates, but it’s something he doesn’t want. If he falls then they’ll laugh and he’ll get back up again, he doesn’t need people fretting over him all the time, always hovering making sure he’s okay. He’s had too much of that at the hospital, but now out here, a few steps closer to getting inside _home_ he just wants to feel normal, wants to laugh Harry’s concern off and get out in the rain and let it drench him like he used to do when he was twelve. Wants to stomp his feet down in the mud and come back to have his mum chastising him for wetting the floor, but always with a cup of steaming tea and homemade cookies ready for him.

They reach the house to find it eerily quiet, Niall shivers when he gets to his room, he hasn’t been here in what feels like years, but it’s only been a couple of months.

“Why are you pouting?” Harry asks.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not, Haz!”

“Something’s bothering you, you can’t fool me. I carried your bags.”

Niall snorts a laugh at that, “Yeah, I didn’t ask you to do that now, did I?”

Harry’s smile drops at that. “Niall, talk to me.”

“I’m sorry!” Niall shouts, pressing his palms against his eyes as he lets himself fall on his bed. “I didn’t mean to snap, I’m sorry Haz, I just, I’m already feeling useless and I got here like ten minutes ago.”

“What does that mean?” Harry sits down beside him, threading his fingers through Niall’s hair. “I know you told me you wanted to do things on your own, Ni, and believe me, you will.” Harry says, pulling Niall’s hands away from his face and ignoring the dampness of Niall’s cheeks. “Hey, you just got out of hospital, and that itself it’s a great victory, yeah? It is. But you need just a bit of time to fully recover. You are an independent young Irish lad and I know I can’t do everything for you, because in my eyes I’m just spoiling you, for you it means a whole different thing, and I get that. But you can’t expect me to let you carry three bags and be able to hold yourself up with your crutches with all the clothes you’re wearing.”

Niall lets out a small giggle at that, latching onto Harry’s hands, “I’m a mess,” Niall mumbles tiredly, dipping his fingertips down his temples.

“You’re my favourite mess.” Harry stats with a dimpled smile. “You’re like a pile of messy clothes,” he continues, kissing Niall’s neck, “and the best way to fix it, you know what it is?”

Niall smiles foolishly up at him, “I don’t know. Enlighten me, Mr Styles.”

“Take off every piece of clothing. All of them. Put them back on their place.” He says, starting by disentangling Niall’s scarf from around his neck.

“My mum will slap you silly when you see you’ve broken my armour,” Niall crackles.

“No germen or sickness will ever touch you again if I can help it, Niall Horan.” He’s kissing down Niall’s torso as he unbuttons the coat and takes off a jacket. “You’re safe.”

Niall whimpers when the cold hits his skin. Two t-shirts, a coat, a jacket, a beanie and a scarf are lying around scattered on the floor, Harry’s hands are working down the zipper of Niall’s pants and Niall’s dick twitches, feeling like he’s been half hard since Harry’s lips touched his skin.

“Put a blanket on your torso, Ni. As much as I enjoy the sight, I don’t want to risk it, yeah?”

Niall nods quickly, throwing a small blanket around him and buckling up his hips to urge Harry to continue what he was doing.

Harry finally wraps his lips around Niall’s cock and Niall moans loud, back arching and fingers gripping Harry’s head tightly. There are goose bumps all over his skin, a bright blush spreading through his cheeks and chest. He grunts and gasps, with every flick of Harry’s tongue.

Harry grasps Niall’s thighs when the blonde starts whining and lifting his hips up into Harry’s mouth eager and messy. Long fingers caress every patch of skin, subconsciously reaching that sensitive part of Niall’s leg that’s _not_ leg anymore and Niall whimpers, trashes against the bed sheets as he comes down Harry’s throat. Harry strokes him through it, letting drops of come fall on his lips as Niall sighs and relaxes again.

Harry reaches down to kiss Niall, huddling the blanket up as Niall slowly breaks the kiss, breathing heavily against Harry’s chest. “That was bloody perfect.” He rasps out.

Harry smiles proudly at him, grazing his fingers against Niall’s eyelashes until his eyes slip closed and he falls asleep.

 

-

 

Niall stops using his crutches a month and a half after he got discharged from hospital and he’s been unstoppable since the doctor told him his coordination and muscle strength have improved unimaginably well and gave him the green light to let the crutches finally go for good.

He still gets insecure every time Harry starts undressing him, but he’s improved at that too, wonderfully so. He attempted to ride Harry on the sofa the night after he finished his first month of PT. That’s another unstoppable thing added to their lives.

His next goal is to be able to get down on his knees to suck Harry off without feeling like his prosthesis is going to break in two.

Harry, though, has to start promo again in a few weeks and it’s filling Niall with a nervous and silent anxiety because they haven’t been truly apart from each other in months and the change is going to hit him like a ton of bricks.

They meet up with the Derby charity foundation when Niall spends a whole and successful week without using his crutches once, feeling like he’s ready to start his life again, get back on track, and he thinks a good start is by rediscovering the feeling of being out, breathing fresh air and having an open space to move and run and chase a ball until everyone cheers after a score.

 

He scores his first goal two weeks into the recovery program, and that’s when he notices how much he’s actually missed the feeling of adrenaline pumping through his veins. Harry is currently in L.A, and Niall’s only witnesses of his score are his mum, Greg and little Theo.

He calls Harry on Skype that night, and Harry answers despite the fact that when Niall calls is around 3am in America.

“Hi babe, how are things going?” Harry asks groggily from where he’s lying on his side. His hair is a mess from what Niall can see, his eyes look small and puffy, every word is laced with sleep. Niall misses him so much.

“I’m good. I’m sorry I woke you up,” Niall blushes, “I- this sounds dumb now that I woke you up but I, I felt like-“

“Ni, just tell me, it’s okay.”

“I scored my first goal today, with the team. They let us play with the legends, Haz, it was fucking perfect! You should have seen how good they play,”  Niall rambles on excitedly, moving his hands around and shaking his head, “One of them passed me the ball and I just, I scored. It was with, with my- my left leg. I scored with my left leg, Haz.” Niall finishes softly, looking down.

It’s taken him a long time to stop calling it a prosthesis and start calling it what it now is, his leg.

“Niall, that’s- that’s great. Wow, I. I’m so proud Ni,” Harry gushes from the other side, if Niall is right, his eyes are getting teary, but Niall doesn’t mention it. “I wish I had been there to see you smashing it.”

“You’ll be here when it happens again. It won’t be the last time you know, I’m, I reckon I’m getting better.”

“You are. You can proudly scream it out loud. You’re improving at everything.”

“Shush, Haz,” Niall mutters, laughing off his crimson blush, “when are you coming home? The recovery program ends in two weeks with a footie game, you know? I’ll have some of the best players in my team.”

Niall doesn’t say it, but Harry can hear the _please, try to make it home by then_ that Niall’s words are implying.

“It’s a bit uncertain at the moment,” Harry yawns, “but even if it’s a one day trip, I’ll assure you I’ll be there, cheering for you.”

Niall smiles, he’s getting sleepy just from watching Harry looking cosy and warm in his hotel bed, “Yeah? With your cheerleader skirt and all?” he smirks, Harry cracks up a big smile.

“I reckon you’d look better in a skirt than me.” Harry smirks back.

Niall laughs, but as Harry yawns for the fifth time since the call started, he feel guilty for making Harry skip his needed rest.

“Go to sleep, Haz. I’ll text you later, yeah?”

“Don’t wanna hang up,” Harry whines, eyes fighting to stay open.

“Then don’t, I’ll disconnect when you’re asleep. Won’t take you long, will it?”

“I’m- I’m very….very awake, Ni.”

“Sure you are,” Niall smiles.

“You’d help with a lullaby, y’know?” Harry opens his eyes just to wink cheekily at him and Niall rolls his eyes, stands up to grab his guitar and sits back down to find Harry having a battle with his tiredness.

”Close your eyes, you big baby,” Niall starts strumming his guitar until he finds the rhythm he was looking for.

Niall’s voice is sweet and angelic even though Harry can’t hear it all clearly through a Skype call, but it’s beautiful, Harry thinks, Niall has such a virtuous voice he could do whatever he wanted with it. It’s enough to remind him that Niall will be joining them on tour when the Derby recovery program is over in two weeks, and he’ll be right there by Harry’s side, for everything. Even if he convinced Paul to add another bed to the bunk area of the tour bus, Harry will make sure Niall sleeps with him every night. The thought makes him smile, and Niall notices, he’s wearing a secretive and small smile as he sings. Harry has never seen anyone so gorgeous, so complete and bright like Niall.

“I love you Ni,” is the last thing he mumbles before he falls back into a peaceful sleep.

 

-

 

 _Sorry I can’t make it to the game today! Got busy with promo over here. You’ll smash it. Kick their asses. Love you, xxxxxx_ is the text Niall gets early in the morning of his last day with the Derby team in his recovery program, and it’s enough to reduce him to tears.

His mum finds him angrily wiping away his tears as he stands up from the bed, and she rushes to his side immediately. Niall hates worrying her, the frown that takes over her whole face makes him think of haunting memories.

“Harry’s not coming, mum. He sent a text.” Niall cries pitifully in Maura’s arms, “he didn’t even call.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have to understand Harry doesn’t have a schedule. Things like this happen. I’m sure he sent you all the love and support from wherever he is.”

“It’s not enough,” he wails, “I wanted him there.”

“You’ll be fine. He’s the one who’s missing it, not you. You’re going to play with those men that you have in that huge poster,” Maura says pointing to Niall’s Derby County poster, in the bigger one of his walls. “You’ll have a great time, don’t let this ruin such a great day.”

 

Niall is quiet the whole day but he tries to keep himself in good spirits. Despite Harry’s presence or absence, he’s still set on winning this match.

It’s not until he’s ten minutes away from going out to the field that a dreadful feeling spreads through his limbs. His prosthesis is itching and his fingers won’t stop shaking. He feels anxious and scared, and so, so alone. He checks his phone one last time to check if Harry has sent any other text. And he had.

It’s a cryptic and weird text, one that leaves Niall slightly confused and curious.

 _Seat 3. Row 1. Team Niall. I love you._ Is what it says.

He has to turn off and save his phone in his locker before he can text back.

They’re losing during the first part of the game. _2-1_. Niall keeps getting distracted but at the same time his eyes don’t leave the ball.

It’s not until the first half is about to finish that Niall lifts his head, wanting the coach to let him sit down. He’s doing nothing out there, better do nothing sitting down. But instead of making contact with his coach, his eyes find a pair of bright, concerned and so familiar green eyes.

He hears the referee’s signal of the first 45 minutes ending and he runs towards Harry. He’s standing there. In first row and seat 3, wearing a jacket that says _team Niall_ just like his text had said. Niall is torn between smacking his head and kissing him.

He kisses him anyway. Hard and fast and desperate. He’s panting when they pull away, he blames it on the small run he took from the middle of the pitch to Harry’s arms. “You came.” Niall whispers against his still parted lips, “You bloody idiot, you made me think I wouldn’t see you today but, you are here, you fucking came!”

Harry brings them closer again, kissing Niall like he’s a lifeline. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mutters between kisses, “it was a surprise, but I was supposed to tell you before the game started. But, jetlag has me a bit dizzy and I fucked up thinking the game was an hour later and, fuck Niall, I’m sorry.”

“Shh, don’t be, Haz. You’re here. You made it on time and I’m sorry you had to see how poorly I’ve been playing but,” he backs away from Harry, kissing the tip of his nose, “now you’ll see all you’ve missed since you left.” He runs back to the field, not before kissing Harry again and winking at him. Blowing him a kiss every time he’s free.

 

He scores two goals that evening, and his team wins. Harry runs to the middle of the field, scooping him up in his arms and making all his team mates and even some Derby players cheer at him. Giving Niall the recognition he so very deserves.

 

Needless to say, the celebration sex they have is quite spectacular to say the least.

 

-

 

 “You sure you have everything?” Maura asks for what feels like the tenth time in just five minutes, “toothbrush? Underwear? Your guitar and phone charger? Oh, Niall, did you pack the framed picture of Theo I gave you-“

“Mum, yes. You made me a list of _must-pack_ and you saw yourself everything is crossed out.”

“It’s just in case, love. America is quite a distance for aul Mullingar, if you forget something you can’t just turn back and get it.”

“You’re worrying too much, mum. And you’re coming to visit in a few weeks, right? If you find something you think I missed, you can pack it and fight me about it when we see each other again,” Niall says, kissing his mum’s forehead and squeezing her small shoulders.

“I trust you, honey. I know you know how to tidy your stuff. Maybe it’s just a mother’s way of delaying you so you don’t leave me so fast,” she says softly. Niall suddenly wants to cry.

“Mum, I’m not leaving you. You know that, right? It’s just five months on the road with Haz and the lads, I can start studying, remember? The tutor that Harry contacted is travelling with us and I’m starting the music program. Then I’ll be back, safe and sound to finish and graduate here at home.” Niall explains. Harry is quietly standing beside them, quite awkwardly when Niall’s dad stares at him for longer than two seconds.

He loves Bobby. He just thinks he didn’t get to know him as well as Maura did, Harry can see the doubts in the man’s eyes, and he understands, Bobby cares a lot about Niall, but due to his work he couldn’t spend as much time with Niall in the hospital as he would have preferred.

“Okay, okay. I know you’ll be safe. I just hate goodbyes,” Maura says, Niall gently wipes away her tears with his thumb. “You’re gonna be late if you let me keep weeping about my son being so grown up he’s ready to leave his mummy for almost half a year.”

Niall laughs at that, but he turns to hug her tightly when he sees the clock, “I love you ma, I’ll see you soon, promise.”

He hugs his Da goodbye, too, and Harry drives them to Dublin’s airport to get the plane to New York. It’s Niall’s first time in The States, first time living the hectic One Direction life.

Niall looks happy. His hair is long again, the longest Harry has seen it, it’s blonde now, bright and soft and Niall complains every time Harry touches it and messes what he calls a quiff. It’s not long enough for that, but he looks beautiful. His cheeks are rosy, no longer sunken in. They have tickle fights sometimes and Harry is so glad he can’t see and count Niall’s ribs anymore.

He’s confident. Wonderfully so. He got used to his knew lifestyle with a smile on his face, at all times. Harry admires him so much.

“What are you lookin’ at?” Niall asks when they’re on the plane. He’s eating a small muffin with coffee as a snack and of course he’s talking with his mouth full. It’s not that he does it on purpose, it’s such an endearing Niall thing to do Harry’s learnt to love it as much as every other flaw Niall has showed him in the few months they’ve been together.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just creepily staring at a very hot blonde that looks exceptionally sexy with muffin crumbs all over his lips.” Harry jokes, Niall throws him a crumpled napkin.

He laughs when it hits Harry in the eye and Harry yelps, startling a woman sitting across him. Niall is doubled over with laughter when Harry turns to look back at him. “You’re ridiculous.” Harry says fondly, grabbing the same napkin Niall threw at him and shoving it down Niall’s shirt.

It tickles, Harry knows by the high pitched giggle Niall tries to swallow down.

They stop their bickering when the pilot lets them know they’re landing soon, Niall grips Harry’s hand tightly as he stretches out to look out of the window. “I can’t believe I’m here.” He whispers, as if he’s trying to not let anyone hear.

Harry doesn’t know if he’s referring to here as in _America_ or here as in _I’m alive and I’m about to have the best experience of my life_.

The only thing he knows for sure is that they’re both so ready for it.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know if you guys remember but, in the first chapter, in the notes, i said i'd tell a brief explanation of the _why_ behing this story, because it was inspired by a real story i saw and witnessed. to sum it up, my mom is a physiotherapist, she works with amputees and people recovering from physical trauma and last december i went to work with her, to help her out in small things here and there, and she introduced me to a young guy, i'm not telling his name, he was just 20 years old and he's had two amputations because of a recurring and really bad case of osteosarcoma, he had lost his right leg when he was 8 and had just lost his left arm when i met him, he said himself he was basically dead, but he pushed himself into learning how to use his arm prosthesis because he wanted to write and finish his book.
> 
> he passed away on may this year, and as far i as i know, he didn't finish the book. i was so, so touched by him, we became basically friends, because i visited more often and he was almost always there, he was such a bright and happy person that had his struggles but faced it all in his own way, and basically, when he passed, my way to let it out was writing. and here i am.
> 
>  
> 
> once again, thank you ALL for every encouraging comment/message/compliment/constructive criticism. i send you all lots and lots of love, see you next time!<3


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